Our Solemn Hour
by Sammysmissingshoe
Summary: Swan Song AU. Dean says yes, and jumps into the Cage with Sam. Getting themselves out of Hell was the simplest part. Now there's a knight of Hell and a crossroads demon gunning for the throne, an angel who can't ever do anything right, a demonic Winchester trying to enjoy his new life, and the other brother, he just wants his family back. Could these trials be the key?
1. In My Darkest Hours

AN: Inspired by a Tumblr post. (If y'all want to follow me, I can be found as Moosesmissingshoe) AU in which Sam and Dean both say yes. Let's see where this takes me from here. Story and chapter titles come from my new favourite song, Our Solemn Hour by Within Temptation.

* * *

Who cares how hot or cold the Devil burned? Dean didn't. All he cared about was if Sam would be able to overpower him. Before he said yes, Sam had drunk gallon after gallon after gallon of demon blood. He had asked Dean not to watch. Dean didn't need to be asked. He'd sworn to himself that he'd never let his brother turn into that again, but now? Now he was letting his brother, his _baby _brother say yes to Lucifer, and jump into Hell all because Dean had given up on him.

After he'd heard Sam's intentions, he'd reached for the amulet Sam had given him, forgetting and damning the fact that he had thrown it away. The amulet he wore proudly in Hell, the one thing that reminded him who he used to be. It hadn't been God or Cas he had lost faith in when he dropped that amulet in that trash can; it was Sam. He'd made sure Sam was watching him when he did it; he wanted Sam to know how he felt.

He thought that had severed any string of hope Sam was still desperately clinging onto, but when Dean was going to say yes, and Sam fought him tooth and nail about it, he knew that even though he had hurt Sam, it didn't stop him from believing in his big brother.

But then Sam just had to be the one to sacrifice himself. Dean couldn't stop him from saying yes, so he might as well be there for Sammy when he needed him, and that moment was right now.

Lucifer knew about the rings. There went the element of surprise, and Dean watched the confidence in Sam's eyes falter, but as scared, and yes, Sam was scared, Dean could tell, he could always tell, as Sam was, he didn't back down. His only slightly trembling voice still challenged Satan himself with that one three letter word.

"Yes."

A bright and pure light was not what Dean had been anticipating Lucifer's grace looking like, and he snapped his eyes shut against the burning glow of Lucifer's essence.

By the time he opened them again, Lucifer's previous and rotting vessel lay discarded on the cold cement floor. But what worried him, was that Sam was in the same state. Ignoring his fear for one moment, Dean pulled the rings from his pocket and tossed them to the wall. His hand shook, as did his voice as he recited the spell to open The Cage.

Cracking plaster and the floor rumbling were eventually drowned out as a monstrous hole in the wall began to form suction like a vacuum, like a black hole pulling in miscellaneous things about the room into the pit, the void before him.

"_I-I'm sending Sammy there…"_

Sam's pained groan took Dean's concerns on the now rather than what was to come, and he rushed to his brother's side. "Sammy!"

"Dean!" Sam's eyes were screwed shut with pain, and he groaned deep in his throat. "I can feel _him. _Oh, God!"

"_Please don't let the last time I hear him sound like this." _Dean pleaded in his head as he helped Sam to his feet. "Go now, Sammy." _"You gotta be the one to walk forward. I-I can't be the one to do this to you." _were the words unspoken.

Dean stood behind him, Sam's shoulders shaking and heaving with each shuddering breath. All of a sudden, he took one slow breath, and in that split second, Dean knew Sam had lost. He didn't even need the confirmation of Sam turning around and grinning at him.

"I was just messing with you." The voice was Sam's, but it was his Sammy anymore. The smile on "Sam's" face faded. "Sammy's long gone."

Those words froze Dean where he stood. It was over, Sam didn't beat Lucifer. Instinct screamed at Dean to charge his brother and shove him into the void himself, but he couldn't- wouldn't be the one to put Sam in hell, the place Dean still has nightmares about to this day. He could only watch as Sam- Lucifer- recited a string of Enochian, and the hole in the wall closed up. He reached with Sam's hands, and snagged the rings from the wall.

Lucifer gave Dean the same he look he'd received when he traveled to 2014, and the fact that he had Sam's face, Sam's mouth that used to show his dimples, Sam's eyes which used to be filled with some much hope, when he looked at him it sent tears prickling in Dean's eyes.

"I told you," Lucifer remarked. "This would always happen in Detroit."

And then he was gone, leaving Dean in the room with nothing but the knowledge of his own failure and loss. Unable to bear the thought of losing Sam, Dean dropped to his knees. The tears that had welled up began spilling loose and Dean was grateful for the solitude at the moment.

In that moment, he wasn't being his father's brave little solider, he didn't need to act strong for Sammy, he had no one to hide his emotions from, and Dean Winchester did something he didn't often do.

He cried.

Normally, his tears would fall with nothing more than an occasional break in his voice, but this time, he saw no point in holding back. His shoulders shook furiously from the force of his crying, his breaths were nothing more than wracked sobs, and he could feel his face reddening with anger at himself, hatred for all the angels and demons that believed they were winning right now. But despite all those feelings, he had but one sole thought;

"_Sammy, I'm so sorry."_

* * *

So. Much. Blood. The walls, the floors, Sam's hands. Do they even count as his anymore? Sure, he had willed himself to rip apart those demons, but was it really him doing all that? He hoped it wasn't. The _things _he did.

Lucifer allowed him control of his hands, Sam thought so, but that was all. Throughout the whole ordeal, Sam couldn't stop his lip curling upwards in a demented smile. A dark deep laughter was forced from his throat, one he hadn't heard his own voice make since he was possessed by Meg.

But he wasn't entirely possessed. Lucifer had allowed him some type of control, but Sam didn't feel that he had any. Lucifer assaulted his mind with memories or rage, vengeance, anger, and he channeled Sam's anger and took it out on every single demon in front of him.

Was Lucifer even telling the truth? Maybe these faces of Sam's past hadn't even been possessed when he knew them. This could all be a ploy by Lucifer to get Sam to unleash his fury with Lucifer's power, as though that would make him grateful, indebted to him.

If he was being honest, Lucifer's power felt _right _inside Sam. He didn't need demon blood surging through his veins; he had angelic grace flowing through him. It was- pure. Lucifer was called the Morning Star, and Sam felt his radiance pumping through his body with every beat of his heart.

Maybe this was the closest to Heaven Sam would ever get.

* * *

The image of that vacuuming black pit was permanently etched in Dean's head. As often as he continuously repressed those memories, he thinks back to his own time in Hell. The pain, the gut-wrenching solitude, the relentless feelings of abandonment and loneliness. He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy, especially never his little brother.

How could he have let Sam do this? Why would he do this _willingly? _Oh, because he already feels like he's damned himself anyway. He told Dean that this was the only way to stop the apocalypse, but he knew that some part of Sam believed that he deserved Hell.

Now what was left? Dean had nothing anymore. Nothing to lose; he'd already lost everything. He knew what he had to do to save Sam.

Dean was going to say "Yes."

There was no way he could tell Cas or Bobby. They'd simply try to talk him out of it. Or slam him up against an alley and beat him senseless again. Thanks for that, Cas.

Much to Bobby's dismay, Dean had gone off on his own. After hours of contemplating his options, he finally succumbed.

"Michael!" This was for Sam. "You hear me?" This was for Sam. "You win." This was for Sam. "I'm saying yes."

After a moment of hesitation, as though Michael wasn't sure he needed Dean anymore, light flooded him, grace and energy began coursing through his body. It was such an alien feeling, stranger than being drained by vampires, more wrong than demon possession, and it made him feel more distant from his own emotions than he had ever been before. Despite the loss of control over his own body, and Michael's own thought of rage and determination filling his mind, Dean still remembered one thing above all else.

This was for Sam.

* * *

If y'all know me, I hate dialogue. I'll be a lot more capable of doing more when I'm not writing at midnight till one in the morning. Sorry most of this was all stuff you know, but it's changing up, don't worry, I hope you're enjoying the changes so far, so let me know what you thought if y'all've got the time. See you soon!

**Sneak Peek from Ch2: **He wondered if Lucifer even let Sam see what was happening around him, or if he just shoved Sam into a darkened corner of his own mind. Truthfully, Dean wasn't sure which one would have been worse.


	2. I Could Not Foresee

AN: Sorry for the wait for this chapter guys. I've been piled up with showchoir practice, and I wasn't feeling very confident about this story, but I think this new one has really redeemed my confidence! Only some dialogue is borrowed from the show, most of it is all original because I figure different circumstances, different stuff's gonna go down. AU for a reason.

* * *

Honestly, Dean was lucky he'd said yes. Had he not, heaven knows how long it would have taken him to find the chosen battlefield. If Dean believed in God, Dean bet He was laughing at all the irony of everything ending in Kansas, the same place it had all begun.

Past all his thoughts of irony's cruel sense of humour, his thoughts went back to Sam. Michael tried to repress those thoughts, but his attention was more on his own needs, he didn't seem to really care about Dean, at least not enough to stop him.

It wasn't long before Sam, _"It's not Sam anymore, it's that monster wearing my brother." _appeared on the chosen field as well. Yet another irony of it being a graveyard, almost some kind of dark foreshadowing for all the people who were going to die if Dean failed.

Even in that state, Dean was finally relieved to see Sam again. He wondered if Lucifer even let Sam see what was happening around him, or if he just shoved Sam into a darkened corner of his own mind. Truthfully, Dean wasn't sure which one would have been worse. Who knows all the things Lucifer did with Sam's hands, maybe, no, screw maybe, Sam _definitely _wouldn't want to remember them.

When Sam started to speak, Dean knew that they weren't his words. "Michael."

"Lucifer." The word slipped off his tongue, feeling so foreign, since he had no control over it.

Eyeing Dean, Lucifer commented, "I see Dean finally consented."

"It was his destiny." Dean would have rolled his eyes at 'destiny' if he could have. "As is this."

Sam's- Lucifer's face looked almost regretful for a moment. "It does not have to be."

Dean felt his head tilt, and his eyebrows raise in doubt. "Our Father has commanded-"

"Where is He, Michael? If this is truly what He wants, why is He not here to see it done?"

"We've known since the beginning of this Earth that this was always how it was meant to end."

"How can you be so blind, brother? Look at my vessel. Sam was willing to risk everything to avoid this from happening." He gestured to Dean. "Clearly, he was not successful, but he was willing to give up everything to ignore what 'our Father has commanded.' Why can you not do the same?"

"You rebelled, Lucifer. You corrupted man; you are the reason that they were damned." Michael argued.

"They chose the wrong path; I merely showed them the option. Our Father knew what would happen when He cast me out. God wanted the Devil."

"No, Lucifer. You disobeyed, and you knew the consequences. This is how it must be."

Lucifer straightened Sam's body, knowing disappointment gleaming in Sam's eyes. "So be it."

Michael swung the first fist; Dean felt his knuckles crack against Sa- Lucifer's jaw, although the crack may have been from Sam. _"Lucifer, dammit."_ In the midst of all this, Dean still couldn't help but only see Sam's head fly back in pain with a grunt. It didn't feel like he was fighting the Devil.

The ground shook beneath them, like an earthquake. No, wait, it really was an earthquake. Having an archangel inside you apparently heightened the rage, and what followed it.

Recovering quickly, Lucifer lunged at Dean, clearly using Sam's memories of sparring and training in order to fight back. Lucifer threw a punch and when it collided with Dean's face, Dean saw the image of Yellowstone Park exploding. Looks like Lucifer's anger had the same affects.

Michael leapt back up to his feet, attempting to sweep Lucifer's legs out from under him, but Lucifer easily dodged, and tackled Michael to the ground.

Again and again, he rammed his fist into Michael face, no longer using Sam's tactic oriented skills; just pure fury was controlling him.

Even though it wasn't his body at the moment, Dean could still feel every hit, every snap of bone, and he heard every single one of Michael's thoughts of remorse at knowing that everything would end with either him or his brother dead.

Michael was an angel; Dean was not.

As much as Michael tried to continuously heal himself blow after blow, Dean couldn't take much more. Sure, Michael riding him would keep him alive, but that would be it. One or two more hits and Dean wouldn't be surviving this, no matter who won.

Another punch, and Dean knew the next one would be his last. Lucifer raised his hand into a fist, but then something strange and unexpected happened.

Michael let go.

Dean sucked in a breath, and he could feel all the pain ignite anew now that he had complete control. Through broken teeth and a bloodied mouth, Dean said the one thing he'd been wishing he could this whole time.

"S-Sammy…"

Something changed in Lucifer's eyes. With his fist still raised, Lucifer cocked his head to the side, and then his eyebrows scrunched together as though he was- reconsidering? No, that couldn't be it. Did- did it mean Sam was fighting back?

Dean saw Sam's fist start to unclench, and the anger in his eyes wavered. After a moment, Sam- yes, _Sam_\- gasped and stepped back, breathing out one word.

"Dean." He smiled.

Before Dean had the chance to respond, Michael resumed control, and pounced on Sam. Dean had never seen so much hurt and betrayal in Sam's eyes until then.

No longer able to control himself, Dean watched Michael nail Sam in the jaw, snapping his head to the side, quickly followed by another hit.

Although Dean hated to admit it, Michael was clever. In the split moment he had let Dean take the wheel, knowing Dean would call out to Sam, he knew it had given Sam the willpower to conquer Lucifer. But now that Sam was the one in charge, Michael immediately took back over, assuming that Sam wouldn't fight back. And you know what sucked the most? He was right.

Sam made no attempt to defend himself. Between punches he'd call out to Dean hoping he'd be able to reach him, but Michael's blows raining down on him were the only answer he received.

Sam's face eventually went to the same state as Dean's was before Michael regained enough strength to heal it. Both Sam's eyes were nearly swollen shut, his nose broken in at least two different places, cheekbones too probably, and yet all Sam did in response to each hit was say Dean's name again and again, but they came out as nothing more than pained moans. His pathetic attempt to speak broke Dean's heart.

"I-it's o-'k-'kay, big bro-th-ther." Another punch, and Sam's head flew to the side again with a whimper, a freaking whimper. "I st-still belie-eve in you." An elbow to his already broken cheekbone made him cry out in pain. "I- 'm not goin' 'nywhere." His eyes that had glazed over with agony still had hope glimmering in them, even when Michael landed another punch directly to them. Sam sobbed for a moment, nearly gone when he added, "N-not gonna le-leave you… C-cuz you c-couldn't 'ver leave m-me…"

As Sam's eyes started to drift shut, Dean's mind flooded with memories, the _pain _of losing Sam over and over again. He'd sworn that he'd never let him go again, and he meant it. Dean fought and he fought, and he pushed and pushed Michael down until finally, he was free. Almost disbelievingly, Dean flexed his fingers at his own accord, and he let out a breathy laugh.

They'd done it; they had won.

* * *

If you wish things to end on a sort of almost happy note, this would be it. I've got plans for future chapters, but they are not very kind to our beloved boys. Again, sorry for the wait, but I'll try to have the next one up sooner. I've got a showchoir competition coming up this week though, and I'll have no internet, so I'm not sure if I'll get the next chapter up before I leave. Lemme know what y'all though, and I hope to see you soon!


	3. That the Tide Could Turn

AN: Okay, so… Y'all probably noticed that it took me forever to get this up, but that's cuz I had my first show-choir competition this weekend, which we got 2nd place in by the way. Anywho, that's why this took so long, and also because my attention span. Whoops. Okay, and just so you know, this story gets dark. If you think this chapter is bad, you ain't gonna like where it goes later. No happy ending here, guys.

* * *

Complete and utter awe were all Dean felt towards Sam at that moment. How could he possibly vertical right now? His face steadily continued dripping blood, and yet he still had the willpower to reach into his pocket, and pull out the horseman's rings. His voice cracked helplessly as he uttered the spell to open Lucifer's cage.

The ground opened up with a collapse of a patch of grass, looking like a ravenous monster's mouth preparing to consume its prey. Sam stared down into the seemingly endless pit at his and Dean's feet. One simple action would mean their deaths, no end, and no rest if they jumped.

He heard Dean's voice call out to him over the sounds of the harsh winds. "You ready?"

Sam wanted to smile, as some last futile effort to comfort his brother, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it, and it wasn't just because of all his shattered teeth and broken bones. "Not really." He answered back.

Dean grabbed Sam's shoulder, his eyes filled with acceptance to their fate. "Together?"

Sam nodded; he wouldn't have had it any other way. He placed his hand on top of Dean's. "Together."

And then they both jumped.

Falling was the easy part, almost serene as Dean saw nothing but unending black, but Michael's screaming inside his head ruined to moment a bit though. To say he was furious was an understatement. The whole time as they were falling, Michael was promising all sorts of unimaginable pain that Dean would feel once they landed. Dean would be lying is he said he wasn't scared when he did land. Following suit, Sam landed beside him with a _thud. _

Michael was at least gentle when he left Dean, most likely because he was in more of a haste to get back at Dean for what he had done. Sam on the other hand… Lucifer must have been even angrier than Michael; he ripped himself out of Sam.

It started with Sam coughing, but it was violent. He couldn't even draw in enough air between each cough, and blood eventually began dribbling past his lips, along with Lucifer's grace. Dean ran over to him, watching Sam's back arch again and again, like that of a cat about to cough up a hairball.

Before Dean could reach Sam, something snaked around his body, and then constricted all the air out of him, binding him tightly.

All Dean heard was a metallic whine, but some part of his brain translated it as, "No. You're going to watch this, knowing that you won't be able to stop it; knowing you won't be able to save your brother."

Dean yanked on his- chains? Ropes? Whatever was holding him captive, he tugged against them with all his might, but he could never possibly match the strength of an archangel, so his efforts were proving to be fruitless.

Sam may not have been able to breath, but he could sure as hell _scream. _What made it even worse was how it didn't even seem like he was trying to hold back the sound. The few times Dean had ever heard Sam scream, he had been shielding most of the pain. But now? Now Dean was being forced to listen to Sam's retching and screaming, with no hopes of making the pain go away. It was even worse when Sam managed to form words.

"D-Dean!" he cried miserably. "Help me!" He could barely choke out the words; he was too busy choking on his own blood.

At that moment, Dean didn't care how pathetic he sounded. "Dammit, Michael, I'm the one you're mad at! Let me save Sam, and you can have me!"

Another high pitched whine was his only response, but this time his brain didn't, or couldn't translate it as anything besides a shriek of pure rage. Dean went to cover his ears, but his arms were held firm at his sides, and he felt blood begin to trickle out of his eyes, and ears. Cas's words about an angel's true voice came to mind as an explanation for why it was happening.

Eye sockets sizzling, his head ringing with burning intensity, but in spite of all that, the worst pain was knowing that Sam was in just as much pain as he was, if not more.

Not being able to see exactly what was happening to Sam was an entirely different kind of torture, and Michael knew it. If he wanted Dean in agony, Sam was the one who had to suffer, and Dean hated that everyone knew it.

Darkness finally closed in on Dean, but he wasn't dead, nor was he unconscious. He was blind. He wasn't able to move, but if he could, he was sure he would have been able to feel the absence of his eyeballs, just like Pamela had when she gazed upon Castiel's true form.

Up to this point, Sam had only been screaming, but then Dean heard a wet crunch and a loud snap, followed by Sam wailing in complete and utter agony. Forget anything Dean had thought earlier; this was far worse than before. Sam doesn't wail; that went against the Winchester rule about never letting on how much you're hurting, usually mentally, but physically too. God, what was Lucifer doing to him?

Hell wasn't a new thing to Dean, at least the loneliness of it wasn't, but that's what made this all so wrong; he wasn't alone. Sam was here with him, and that made everything so much worse.

During his first time in Hell, they tried to use Sam's image to break him. Sometimes Sam would be the one being tortured beside him, other times he was the one torturing Dean, but Dean knew it wasn't Sam; at least not then. This time he didn't have any other choice but to believe it.

Michael had allowed Dean his hearing, but he had absolutely no gratitude for that fact. Sam's piercing shrieks cut Dean deeper than any knife or blade ever could. Damn Michael for knowing his weakness.

"Dean!" Sam sobbed. "Pl-please! H-help!"

That went on for far too long; Sam would cry out Dean's name, pleading for help. Dean remembered when he used to call out for Sam when he was in Hell, before he'd lost all hope. Dean knew better now, there is never any hope in Hell. Never.

Throughout all this, Sam had yet to beg the Devil, but in a sudden and panicked voice, Dean heard his brother break for the first time.

"D-don't. N-not that! Please! No, no pl-please, don-" The word cut off with a guttural scream of raw agony.

In that moment, Dean was glad he couldn't see.

Apparently, Michael decided that Dean wasn't occupied well enough, and hurled him to the floor… Or ground. Did the Cage have a floor? Whether it did or not, Dean crashed into something hard beneath him, and then felt himself being flung onto a- O-oh, God no…

A rack. _The _rack. The one he practically lived on for thirty years. He broke last time; he was not looking forward to having to go through all that again. Maybe he won't break this time. He-he could do it, right? But… for how long? No one was going to save him; he and Sam were going to stay trapped with Michael and Satan himself for the rest of eternity.

Welcome to Day One in Hell.

* * *

Castiel may have made a promise to not try and rescue Sam, and watch out for Dean, but that plan went to Hell. Literally. Dean just had to sacrifice himself and be noble once more. The worst part of it was that it honestly didn't even surprise Castiel that much. Dean always seemed to be more selfless that Sam. Some part of Castiel was just hoping that maybe, just this once, that Dean wouldn't have to the hero. Wishful thinking wasn't just a thing for humans apparently.

Now that Michael and Lucifer were caged, Heaven had fallen to shambles. There was a mad scramble for power, and Castiel simply wanted for it to end. But he wanted- _needed _the Winchesters back at his side again to accomplish it. He didn't like how he was planning on getting them back, but he was out of options.

It was a very odd sight to behold; an angel summoning a demon. Castiel waited a moment, and then he heard the familiar accented voice greet him.

"Castiel; the angel of Thursday. Miss me already?"

"Crowley." Castiel answered in response. "I assume now that Lucifer is gone that someone else had taken the throne. And I assume it was you."

With a bow of mock humility, Crowley concurred. "You are indeed in the presence of a King. I ought to get myself a crown."

Not at all in the mood for Crowley's antics, Castiel got right to the point. "You need to release the Winchesters."

"Can't." Was Crowley's quick reply.

Castiel felt his fists clench. "Why not?"

"I may be the King, but that door's long closed now. Sock hanging on the knob and everything. But, I can offer you help in another matter."

If Castiel had learned anything from watching the Winchesters, it was that you don't ever side with a demon. Then again, they weren't exactly there to castigate him for it. "What are you talking about?"

"If Hell's in chaos, I imagine Heaven isn't fairing too well either. Am I right?" Crowley paused, not getting, but not really needing the confirmation. "Thought so. Now, if you want the fighting to end, which I assume you do, you're going to need power, and if you're going to have power, you'll be needing something I happen to have an abundance of."

"What?"

Crowley grinned. "Souls."

That definitely would have gotten an immediate "No" from the Winchesters, but again, Castiel reminded himself that they weren't around to talk him out of it. He missed them both so much. Maybe with all that new power, he'd be able to rescue them himself. That's what he was going to do. He wasn't doing this for himself; it was for the Winchesters.

At least, that was how it began.

* * *

Okay so as of right now, I'm not sure whether or not I'm going to give Castiel more importance later in this story or not, but I felt the need to at least let him continue where the show would have gone in season six. Drop a review if y'all have got time, and I will try a lot harder to not make you wait this long for the next chapter. See y'all soon!


	4. So Fast to This Degree

AN: **Warning: **Lotta graphic violence and torture for both the Winchesters in this chapter so… Yeah, sorry about that. This was originally gonna be just kinda plotless torture, but a horrific plot bunny snuck in at the end. I shouldn't be allowed to say plot bunny, I don't really know what that is. Enough rambling, here's the chapter!

* * *

Years turned to decades, decades faded to centuries, and every single second was filled with torturous agony. The only sounds were Sam and Dean's screams, constantly unending and never ceasing. Sam's voice would break as he cried out for his brother, but Dean knew better than to hope for help. He just screamed.

When Sam sobbed for Dean as Lucifer dislocated every one of his joints, Dean just muttered broken apologies under his breath. When Sam pleaded with Satan to stop as he tore Sam open and force fed him his own intestines, Dean just turned his head away, focusing on his own pain in hopes of blocking out Sam's.

Michael was playing his cards well. Sam's constant pleas for help slowly began driving Dean to the brink of insanity. But more often than not, it seemed like Dean wished Sam would just _shut up _rather than stop suffering. When Sam broke, he simply turned into a quivering mess. But Dean just started becoming more hateful and angry about everything that had happened to him. Maybe Michael would be able to use this to his advantage.

"Dean," Michael whispered lowly, his mouth right beside the bloody and torn face, absent of its tongue and eyes. Even without them, Dean's face still portrayed instant terror at the sound of Michael's voice. "Do you tire of all this yet? Do you wish for it to stop?"

Taunting him even further, Michael was currently in the visage of Dean's father, the younger version of him; the one before Sam was born, therefore ruining any chance his family had at normality. Dean would say, "Damn him" but it would probably be unnecessary at this point.

Ribs splintered with a snap of Michael's fingers, drawing a tortured cry from Dean's skinless lips. He really didn't appreciate being ignored. "I asked you a question, Dean. Answer it."

With no tongue or teeth to form the words, Dean simply nodded frantically, desperate to spare himself of any more of this agony.

Using John's mouth, even though Dean couldn't see it, Michael smiled wide and victoriously. With another snap, Dean fell from the rack, catching himself with his broken fingers. Slowly, Dean's wounds and broken bones began mending themselves, and what felt like the first time in forever, he stood up. Michael usually broke his legs before he ever had the chance; why was he letting him stand now?

Don't get them wrong, Michael and Lucifer still abhor one another, but now they shared their common goal of making the Winchesters suffer for the rest of eternity. They had an arrangement where they would occasionally switch toys or team up on one while the other was forced to watch. Isn't it nice when brothers finally get along?

Just as Lucifer was finishing up meticulously removing Sam's femur bone, Michael whispered in his ear. Lucifer's Cheshire cat grin crept up one side of his face, and he still loomed over the trembling and terrified Sam, gagged by a leather strap and tied down to the extreme. Lucifer liked to overdo it sometimes, simply because he could, and Sam's inferiority to him was something Sam needed to be consistently reminded of. Lucifer eyed Sam, considering him for a moment. He tapped his fingers against his lips, relishing in how waves of anticipation of pain radiated off Sam.

Finally, he made a decision. "I've still got a few minutes here." He smiled again when Sam's eyes widened in panic, and he yanked uselessly against the straps that held him down. "Hold tight, Sammy. Someone else will be with you momentarily." With that, he plunged his hand back into the gaping wound on Sam's leg, carefully wriggling the bone out; the sound of squelching flesh and blood sloshing against Lucifer's skin were completely inaudible, drowned out by Sam's muffled, agonized screaming.

Still in shock from the actual _break _from the torture had left Dean completely frozen. The desperate cries of his brother had been going on for too long to even surprise Dean anymore. It was simply white noise; he'd grown to ignore it, even become nothing but annoyed by it. Dean was constantly in pain too, but he at least had the decency not to guilt Sam by crying out for him. What exactly was Sam expecting for him to do? Break free from the rack, kill Michael and Lucifer, get Sam loose and give him a nice brotherly hug? Get over it, Sam, no one's leaving. Ever.

An arm suddenly wrapped around Dean's shoulders, and Dean couldn't stop the flinch. The arm belonged to Michael, and he was smiling at Dean. Not the way he would if he had been skinning Dean alive (again), but a smile as though he and Dean were old friends. If Dean had any sense of humour left, he might have laughed at the irony.

"Are you ready for your chance to be free of the rack?"

Was-Was Michael going to let Dean speak? Almost cautiously, Dean answered, "Y-Yes." It had been the first time Dean had been able to open his mouth without something being shoved inside, or that a scream slash blood didn't come out.

Michael tapped Dean's shoulder encouragingly and guided him over towards- Lucifer, and Dean shuddered. Sure, Michael tortured Dean _plenty, _but he was careless and vicious about it. Lucifer was s-l-o-w. He took his time as he dug out Dean's eyes, or snapped his bones, one by one. Michael always had his teeth bared in a snarl as he tore into Dean, but Lucifer? Lucifer occasionally let his tongue peek past his lips in concentration as he sliced open Dean's ribcage, carefully picking apart as many organs as he could before Dean died from blood loss. His record was far too high for Dean to want to ever recall. Lucifer's nonchalance about everything was its own torture method. His apathy towards pain just made it hurt so much worse.

"Don't be afraid, Deanie-boy." Lucifer noted at Dean's obvious discomfort. "I'm not gonna hurt you, you've earned yourself a treat today, buddy," He stepped aside, revealing Sam, still tied down, organs displayed delicately like artifacts at a museum, his breaths fast and shallow. Dean remembered how it felt to be exposed like that; the cold of Lucifer's touch or hot flames of Hell brushing inside places they should never go. Dean had seen that sight too many times for him to be affected but it once more, even though it was his _baby brother _on that rack.

When a knife was placed in Dean's hands, he knew what they wanted from him.

They wanted him to torture Sam.

"Oh," Lucifer giggled. "Silly me. You probably want a clean canvas, don't you, big guy?" Dean watched, unaffected that the Devil had just called his brother a canvas, as Lucifer waved a hand, and Sam bucked up with panting breaths as his body began to heal; but the fear in his eyes did not waver.

He croaked out a word behind the gag, but even muffled and shaking with dread, it was still understood as, "Dean?"

Something snapped in Dean, and for once, it wasn't bone. Sam was always so damn _weak! _Dean always had to be the one to save him, to die for him, to go to Hell for him! Well… Dean had finally had enough of that. If Sam was so willing to put himself through Hell, then Dean would gladly show him what that meant.

Searching deep into his mind for the thoughts he had forgotten, for the methods he had long since forced into the back of his head, Dean looked down at Sam, and he smiled. And he didn't miss the frightened whimper Sam made when he saw Dean's expression.

"Look on the bright side, Sammy;" Dean picked up a scalpel, letting the flames of Hell gleam off the silver. He checked the tip, pricking his finger until a steady trickle of blood ran down his hand. "At least it's not the Devil."

And then he started carving.

* * *

Okay… So… I did warn you. I don't even know why I did this. Oh yeah, because I'm a monster. See? At least I know it. And I know Dean would never hurt Sam in real life, but the guy's been spending centuries in Hell, I imagine he'd get pissed eventually. As long as you don't send me virtual weapons in an attempt to kill me for what I did here, I'd still love for y'all to review, and I'll have more up ASAP!


	5. Can't Believe My Eyes

AN: So, I've been kind of slow on updates with this story, and I apologize for that. But as a reader, one thing I cannot stand if authors are purposefully holding back chapters just for the sake of getting more reviews. I don't care if I get one review per chapter; I will post for that one person! I will never hold back chapters because I've decided that what you guys give isn't enough. Threatening readers is a dishonest way to get reviews, and I have far too much respect for my readers to ever do that to you. When I see an author doing that, not matter how good their story is, I instantly lose all respect for them. Okay, now that that's out of the way, here's the fifth chapter!

* * *

Souls of Heaven and Hell weren't enough to satiate Castiel's lust for power, he needed far more. He often wondered if this was how Sam felt back when he was on demon blood. This wasn't the same, he told himself. He thought he could handle it. He wasn't downing the blood of the damned; just their souls. And he had told Crowley that he was only to be given human souls, not those that were turning into demons. He just had to trust Crowley for that.

Then again, what did it matter if the souls weren't human? Clearly, it wasn't getting the job done in the way he was hoping. Maybe other souls were exactly what he needed.

Often times, Castiel would look at a human, and all he would see was their souls. Some were darker than others, some were more broken, but all in all, Castiel missed seeing humans the way his Father intended him to; beautiful creatures, as corrupted as they were, they were still God's creations, and they were born with the divine right to die and go to Heaven or Hell. They weren't meant to be consumed by an angel in a desperate grab for power, even though it was for a "righteous cause."

So many of his brothers had lost their way by doing what the believed to be righteous, but Castiel was positive that he wouldn't fall prey to the same fate. He was stronger than them.

Oddly though, he still wasn't strong enough. Crowley must have been holding out on him, because Castiel was still nowhere near where he needed to be in order to have the power to pull Sam and Dean from the cage. Unfortunately, Castiel had thought of another option; one he would have to consult his, and it pained him to call Crowley this, business partner.

"Craving another hit already?" Was Crowley's greeting as he appeared behind Castiel. "Or do you just miss me?"

"I have come to the conclusion that I do not have enough souls to achieve what I was hoping."

Crowley snorted like a pig in answer to Castiel's greed. Castiel was far less than amused. "What do you want me to do about it? Not like I've got spare souls lying about. Would you like me to check in the back?" He rolled his eyes with annoyance.

"I have thought of a place where we may be able to find more."

"Well. Do tell."

"Purgatory."

One of Crowley's eyebrows rose in doubt. "Purgatory? Where the souls of monsters go?"

Castiel just nodded.

"You think I know where it is?"

"I know where to find something that will. All you have to do is get it to tell you."

A grin only Crowley could pull off crept onto his lips. "Dear, little, precious Castiel, is asking me, the King of Hell, to torture answers out of monster to satiate his desire for power?"

"Do we have a deal or not, Crowley?" Castiel practically hissed.

"Hold on, let me relish in this a bit longer."

"Crowley…" Castiel warned.

"Fine, fine." Crowley chuckled. Really, this angel was easier to play than a triangle. "Now then, go find me my monster. Do aim high on the food chain."

Once more, Castiel narrowed his eyes at Crowley, before vanishing. He was already too far gone to feel regret.

* * *

"That's it, Sammy. We're taking it nice… and slow." Dean cooed as he slid his hand into Sam's chest cavity, his blood helping ease Dean's hand past muscle and organs. His other hand pressed down on Sam's bucking and heaving body to steady his incessant thrashing. "Shh, shh, shh." Dean withdrew his hand, and began carding it through Sam's hair; it began clumping together with his own blood, while Dean's hush did nothing for Sam's nerves.

Nerves were just so touchy, weren't they? Dean had forgotten just how sensitive they were. Just one little prick with a scalpel, and he had Sam writhing and wailing beneath him, his cries still nearly mute under the leather gag.

"Dmmph!" Sam's attempt to scream Dean's name was the only remotely comprehendible sound he seemed to be capable of making. His voice cracked, his agony made clear by his pained cries. He didn't try and choke out the word for Dean to know he was wondering. "Why?"

"Because, Sammy," Dean answered to the asking silence. "You need to learn to be a man. I stepped up in Hell last time. Sure, it took some convincing, but I learned to accept the inevitable. You can join me, little brother." Dean leaned down so he was right by Sam's ear, his mouth dangerously close, his breath as hot as the flames of Hell itself. "Grab a blade, and shove it down Lucifer's throat. You know he deserves it. Think about _alllll_ the things he's done to you."

Sam's eyes stayed wide and fearful. He would be lying if he said he didn't want Lucifer to pay, but Sam wouldn't- couldn't- be the one to do it. He no longer felt anger towards Lucifer, only terror. Lucifer had well drilled into his brain that Sam was the epitome of the bitch in their relationship. It's not something he would confess topside, but he'd long since given up on ever being free from Lucifer's eternal leash.

The sensation of Dean tickling the _underside _of his ribs caused him to jerk against his bonds again with a strangled shriek. The terrifying wrongness of it was probably worse than the actual pain.

"You still ticklish, little brother?" Dean wiggled his fingers some more, grinning at Sam's garbled sobs, accompanied by his back arching ferociously. Dean chuckled darkly. "C'mon, tiger. Take the offer."

God, Sam wanted to, but he just couldn't bring himself to side with this twisted and broken mockery of his brother, so he could only shake his head.

Almost disappointedly, Dean sighed. "Can't say I'm surprised." He shoved his hand elbow deep into the now gushing hole in Sam's chest until he blood-slicked fingers brushed against Sam's frantically beating heart. "Takes someone strong to accept this side of themselves. Gotta have guts. Not that you don't have any; they're just all over my shoes is all. Anyway, I gotta ask, Sammy," His fingers tightened with excruciating precision, a calm smile overpowering the hungry look in Dean's eyes. "Do you think I'm strong?"

Bile and blood rose in Sam's throat; with no hopes of forcing it back down, it rushed up to his mouth, but the gag prevented it from passing. The mixture fought the gag, small dribbles managed to break free and run down Sam's face, but most of it trickled into his nose. The horrendous stench only intensified Sam's need to hurl, and more blood and vomit spilled past the gag, but he was still suffocating on the majority of it.

At least this time it wasn't going to be a mystery as to how he was going to die; he knew he was going to choke to death on his own blood. And it was because of his brother. This was definitely a new one.

Dean watched Sam's body seize beneath him as his lungs were continuously denied oxygen, and he was forced to swallow his own sick. Dean had endured that time after time; he wouldn't want Sam to feel left out. Not that he'd be feeling anything in a few minutes.

Make that seconds. Sam's eyes had rolled upwards to the back of his head, and while his muscles continued to flare unceasingly, Sam was gone. Pure animalistic instinct to survive was the only thing keeping Sam alive.

After what seemed like far too long for Sam, he finally and thankfully 'died.' Not that there was any real rest in Hell. In a few seconds, Sam had woken; whole and new again, but the fear never left his eyes. Even if he managed to escape the Pit, he doubted that it ever would,

No matter how often Dean said it, Sam wasn't selfish. What Dean didn't know was that even through all the agony Sam was forced to endure, his concerns were still for Dean. He'd willingly be tormented under the Devil's blade for a thousand more years if he thought it would save his brother; because this? This wasn't the Dean that had died with and for Sam numerous time already. Dean could torture him all he liked, but Sam would never hate him for it; his hatred would always be for himself.

So many maybes and if constantly swam around Sam's head, each scenario ending with Dean not having to be trapped there with Sam, and Sam would have been okay with that. He'd much rather suffer at Satan's hand than Dean's.

Turned out Lucifer had been thinking the same thing. Either that or he just missed the action. He was like a pouty child that had carelessly discarded a toy, but only seemed to care when someone else wanted it. Sam was the chew toy, and the dogs were ready to play.

* * *

It was a mistake for Castiel to agree to join Crowley in one of his- shall we say- _interrogation _sessions. Never again would he want to hear sounds like the creature beneath Crowley's knife made.

Howling. Choking. Screaming. Any other time Castiel heard those sounds, he would have stopped whatever was causing such agony, but he found himself indirectly responsible for its pain. Telling himself that it was all for the great or good was pretty much the only way he could convince himself it was worth it. It was also pretty much the only thought he had nowadays.

The monster before him was a shape-shifter, but it wasn't a regular one; it was the Alpha. Castiel had found it when he had gone off to collect the soul of a noble hunter, who had died in the line of duty, but when he'd told Castiel the tale of what killed him, Castiel knew what this creature was. And even more importantly, he knew it could lead him to Purgatory.

That is, if he- it- ever decided to talk.

Crowley had tracked down an ancient blade that could actually hurt it more than silver, but God, the _sounds _it made…

Eventually, Castiel made forced himself to walk away, no longer able to bare the cries. Crowley had sworn that the shifter was about to crack, but the time wasn't coming soon enough.

Finally, Crowley returned with a grin, wearing a smock simply _drenched _in blood. "Guess who just learned how to find Purgatory?"

It was finally all worth it.

* * *

I felt compelled to add that last little bit with Castiel, otherwise I'd feel like I'd be leaving you with yet another plotless chapter. Not sure why Cas angst comes so easily to me. Anywho, if y'all got time, drop a review for old sammysmissingshoe, and I'll try to get my butt in gear so you don't have to wait as long for the next chap. See y'all soon!


	6. How Can You Be So Blind?

AN: In my creepy basement with scary music playing… I will regret this. Sorry I've been so sporadic with updates on this fic, but it's competition season, and I'm busy as crap lately, but hey, at least I'm updating! Enjoy guys!

* * *

It _burned. _Castiel had gotten greedy with the souls. He'd even betrayed Crowley so he wouldn't have had to share his findings from Purgatory. Crowley had then proceeded to turn to Raphael, the archangel who, like Castiel, was attempting to take control over Heaven.

How very cowardly of them both. Castiel unleashed the power the souls granted him, and eradicated Raphael with a mere snap of his fingers. Crowley required no more prodding than that, and he had vanished. He very well understood who Castiel was now. Or at least, who Castiel believed he was:

God. Castiel was no longer the rebellious angel he once was; he thought he was God. No other being matched him, why couldn't he be? He failed to realize that God couldn't just happen. Power isn't what makes God God.

But that still wouldn't stop Castiel from achieving what he had originally set out to do; rescue the Winchesters.

Right then, he said to hell with punishing those who had fought alongside Raphael, he was finally going to save his friends; his _family._

The radiance of the Cage was one of the first things Castiel felt when he became "God." With his newfound power, he ripped open the Earth.

Gut-wrenching screaming was the first thing he heard as the Cage opened. What made it worse, was that he knew the voice; it was Sam. Honestly, that wasn't what surprised him; it was the lack of Dean's screams. Both the Winchesters were down there, of that Castiel was positive. So why couldn't he hear Dean? The horrible screaming cut deep into Castiel's heart, and it encouraged him even more to save them.

When Castiel arrived in the Pit, the sight before him made him regret every single second he had wasted with his petty war. His friend, Dean Winchester, was looming over his brother, also Castiel's friend, and Dean was torturing Sam. What had happened to him?

"Dean?" Castiel dared to ask.

Slowly, Dean turned his head towards Castiel, the grin on his face widening. "Hey, buddy!" Dean greeted with the same, very off, smile. "How'd you manage to get the juice to come here all by yourself?" Dean had to raise his voice to be heard over Sam's unending screams as he continued to be tortured.

"Brother," Michael took in the sight of Castiel. He could feel Castiel's vessel nearing its limit, a time bomb on the brink of going off. "What have you done to yourself?" Michael's voice dripped with worry for his little brother. Even from down there, Michael still cared for his family.

"What I had to do, Michael." Castiel replied, his voice cold and detached.

"Well, look at you!" Lucifer congratulated Castiel as he approached him, patting him on the back. "Somebody wants to be God. Yknow, that's what got me put in here in the first place. Got a lot in common, you and me."

Castiel wrenched himself away from Lucifer. "I am nothing like you. I have the power to obliterate you, so I advise that you get out of my way."

"You-!" Lucifer was mad, but he didn't doubt that Castiel would kill him if given a reason, so he stepped down.

"Castiel," Michael looked at his brother in disbelief. "You are not our Father, you can't-"

"As a matter of fact, I can. You too need to get out of my way, or you will suffer for it."

Reluctantly, Michael did so, missing the oblivious and caring Castiel he used to know.

"Dean," Castiel's tone had turned kind once more. "What has happened to you? Why are you doing this to Sam?"

All he heard for a moment was Sam's pained moan, and then Dean finally answered. "Why the hell not?"

"He is your brother, you both died for one another."

Dean left his position over Sam's well restrained body, and began casually circling Castiel, yet it was in such a predatory manor. "And what exactly has being dead done for us, hmm?"

"You stopped the apocalypse. You both saved the world."

Laughing, Dean just shook his head. "You really think that's gonna last? Uh-uh. It's only a matter of time before the next big showdown between Earth and God knows what next time. We saved a world that's already damned! What good is that?"

True, the world would have to end eventually, but why couldn't Dean realise that what he did was right? "There are billions of families that are alive because of you two."

If Castiel thought Dean's laugh was condescending before, he was dead wrong. The laugh that burst from Dean's throat was wild, manic. "Family…" He chuckled again. "Family has never done anything for me 'cept get me killed. Who needs a family when you're-" He was at Sam's side again, and in a flash, his hand shot out and snapped Sam's neck. "Free?"

Castiel wanted to throw up. He'd seen people die before, even Sam, but never like this; never by his brother's hands. "I can save you, Dean. It's why I've come here. You don't need to do this anymore."

"Aw, that hurts my feelings. You don't like this side of me?" He went over to Castiel, and grabbed him by the collar of his trench coat. "What's wrong, angel? Afraid of the dark?" At that, Castiel saw a sight he wouldn't have imagined in his worst nightmares, if he slept that is. Dean Winchester's eyes had gone completely black.

This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't be. This was the fate that Heaven had lost numerous angels to trying to prevent. When Castiel had pulled Dean from Hell, he wasn't on the rack; he was the one torturing. Once he'd gone topside, Dean was broken with the knowledge of all he'd done. He'd just been torturing nameless and faceless souls, how would he be able to live with himself after everything he'd done to Sam?

"Dean, I can fix this. I can cure you."

"I don't wanna be fixed." Dean snarled. "I'm not asking for your help."

"And I'm not asking for your permission." On that note, Castiel reached out and clutched Dean's arm the same way he had when he had first raised Dean. Something Dean had failed to notice when he was rescued was how impossible it would have been for Castiel to pull him up on his own. When he had held on to Dean, Dean had held back.

Now though, Dean growled and struggled furiously against Castiel, clearly not wanting to give in without a fight. Castiel took hold of Sam's wrist, and began pulling them upwards. He gradually felt Sam's pulse come back to life. At the moment, Castiel couldn't think of the consequences of bringing the Winchesters back in their current states, he just needed them to be free. He could deal with the long term affects later.

Even with his newfound power, pulling both of them from the Cage was no easy task. Michael attempted to follow them out, and with a heavy heart, Castiel cast him back to the depths of the Cage. Castiel was unable to determine whether the action had left Michael furious, or just betrayed.

Lucifer was no mystery though. He swore and cursed at Castiel, promising him that when the end came, Castiel would be the first to suffer his wrath.

These were his brothers; it would be a lie to say Castiel had no sympathy for leaving them behind. But this was what had to be done. They'd nearly destroyed the planet, and Castiel saw no future redemption for either of them. Right before he reached the top, Castiel could have sworn he heard Michael crying.

When he was finally clear from the Cage, Castiel reluctantly closed the void once more. Hopefully, it would never open again, until the true end of times.

Free at last, the Winchesters were now his first priority. He turned back to them, and his heart sank. Dean had wrapped his arm around Sam's throat, cutting off his air. Sam didn't appear to be able to stand on his own two feet. Dean's grip was the only reason he was vertical at the moment.

"Don't come any closer." Dean warned when Castiel stepped towards them, and he tightened his chokehold in response.

Sam gagged and gasped for breath with the action, and his hands went up to Dean's arm in a panic. He clawed at Dean's arm desperately, not entirely aware of what was happening, other than being unable to breathe. Some distant part of him told him that he was no longer in Hell, but he'd wrongly believed that far too many times to trust it again.

"Dean, stop this." Castiel pleaded. "You don't need to hurt Sam anymore. You're free."

"I don't care how powerful you think you are now, I'm not going back to that hell I used to call my life."

"This isn't you talking. You need to fight this, I can cure you!"

"Would you stop saying 'cure?' This ain't your choice, Cas, it's mine. And I don't want to be saved."

Castiel moved closer again, and Dean pulled on Sam's neck until his face started reddening, and he could only wheeze in an occasional trickle of air. "I mean it. I'll kill him."

"I will just bring him back. Don't do this, Dean."

Fuming with frustration, Dean produced the angel blade he had whisked from Castiel's pocket when he was being pulled from Hell.

"That will not work on me." Castiel said.

"Oh don't worry, it ain't for you." Not giving Castiel the chance to react, he stuck the tip of the blade through the still unhealed scar at Sam's lower back, the one he'd gotten at Cold Oak.

Sam cried out in utter agony as the scar reopened. As futile as it may have been, he thrashed against Dean's grip, and looked pleadingly over at Castiel, his eyes begging Castiel to save him from yet another torture. He arched in pain as he tried to worm away from his brother's grasp, only causing Dean to sink the knife further into the wound, eliciting a pained moan out of him.

"New plan, Cas." Dean inched the blade even further, Sam's struggles only jostling the knife and opening the wound even more. "I walk away or," He pushed it even deeper until Sam shrieked and cried out a broken, "Please stop!" "Or I kill Sammy, and then I'll possess him. Can't really save a walking corpse can ya, Cas?" The old nickname slid easily from Dean's tongue, further mocking Castiel with the man that Dean used to be.

If Castiel let Dean kill and possess Sam, all his sacrifices would be meaningless. Even if he could only save Sam right now, it was better than allowing him to die again because of Castiel's stubbornness. "Fine, Dean, you win. Just let your brother go."

Drawing the knife out slowly, Dean grinned in his dark victory. "Glad you see things my way, angel." He shoved his broken brother at Castiel, sending them both tumbling to the ground. "Until we meet again." With a confidence the old Dean could never have, he turned away from his _family, _and left them in the dirt. It was time for him to raise a little hell.

* * *

AN: …Blame the muse. She's the demon Dean lover, not me! (Big lie. Black eyed Dean, just- mmm) I'm still not sure where I'm going with this, but I'm having a blast right now, and if you are too, drop a review for dear old Sammysmissingshoe. See y'all soon!


	7. Is the Heart of Stone

AN: Look who's finally using dialogue! And look, no agonizingly long wait for this chapter! Good job, me, high five! *High fives self*

* * *

Being a demon felt more right than it should have. Dean had never realized how liberating it was. No brother to hold him back, no angel on his shoulder 'guiding' him through every wrong turn or misstep.

Have you ever made a bad decision just for the hell of it? Slapped a sweet little waitress's ass just because you could? Maybe overstep your boundaries at a strip club just for the sakes of getting in a fight with security? Ever rip a man's throat out with your teeth just to see if it was possible? No? Well, Dean Winchester highly recommends.

He did miss Sammy though, his screams more specifically. Honestly, he kinda missed Hell too; he made quite a name for himself down there. He was a new breed; a demon molded by an archangel and Satan himself. He truly felt worthy of Hell's crown, and he knew a certain crossroads demon who could give it to him.

"Well, well, well." Crowley popped up behind Dean and the bowl he had mixed the ingredients in to summon him. "Look who's back in-"

"Say 'back in black' and I stab you." Dean warned. He wasn't in the mood for puns.

"Point taken. So, welcome back, Dean. Loving the new look."

"Cut the crap, Crowley. You know why you're here."

Crowley scoffed with a raise of his eyebrows. "Do I now?"

"You don't deserve the throne. You're nothing but a dumbass salesman. Me? I'm the result of the Devil's hand itself. You really don't wanna get in my way."

Teeth grit together, Crowley practically hissed, "I've been ruling Hell for over a year now. I've got an army ready to defend me, should the matter present itself. What do you have?"

Dean chuckled. "What do I have?" He reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out the angel blade. "I have you defenseless, and nothing to lose."

Fear wasn't an emotion Crowley liked to show, but he couldn't stop his eyes from widening at the sight of that glimmering blade. "N-now, let's not be hasty here."

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna do anything... Unless you make me. You can ether give me the throne, with or without your head still attached to your shoulders."

"Okay... Or, how about this?" With a panicked snap of his fingers, Crowley was gone.

Knocking the bowl over in a heated rage, Dean shouted to the empty air. "C'mon you coward! Come back here, and face me like a man!" It didn't really matter in the end though. Dean would win Hell, one way, or another.

* * *

"Sam, please calm down." Castiel was attempting to soothe the frantic and unfocused Sam, to no avail.

"Leave me alone! Get off! I kn-know you're not r-real!" He was losing too much blood. It ran in rivulets down his back, and only worsened with his struggles.

"Stop!" Castiel put his hand on Sam's shoulders to hold him down. "Even if you don't believe I am real, at least let me heal you."

Momentarily calming down, Sam let Castiel gently touch his forehead, and the scar closed up once more. He continued shivering in anticipation, anticipation of what he wasn't entirely sure. "G-go ahead... Tell me how I l-let you down too."

Sorrowfully, Castiel closed his eyes, and shook his head. "Sam, I am not going to hurt you. You're out. Michael and Lucifer are trapped in the Cage, but you aren't."

"J-just stop... I-I know my place here now."

"Sam, look at me." Castiel's nearly glowing blue eyes radiated concern and compassion, something Lucifer and Michael would never be able to duplicate. "I got you out, Dean too. He has turned into a demon, and he needs your help. If this was just one of Lucifer's illusions, what good would there be for him to take away from you?"

Seemingly speechless for a moment, Sam simply stared at Castiel, willing himself to trust that this could finally be true. "Y-you're real?"

Relieved, Castiel nodded. "Yes, this is real. Although, I almost wish it wasn't."

Barely even above a whisper, Castiel heard, "We have to kill him."

"S-Sam?" Castiel hoped he had misheard him.

Unable to bring himself to look Castiel in the eyes, Sam repeated himself. "D-Dean. We have to kill him. He- th-that's not my brother anymore." Sam sat up on the ground, but he brought his knees a little closer to his chest, as though he were tempted to curl into the fetal position. His voice trembled with the trauma offered by the nightmare inducing memories.

"Sam, we can get him back. We just need-"

"No, Cas!" Sam whipped his head towards the angel, a burning hatred and almost irreparable hurt roaring in his eyes. "You don't know all the things he did to me. You don't _want _to know all the things he did to me! I know my brother, and that wasn't him. It doesn't matter if you 'fix' him or whatever; he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing what he did down there. The memories alone would kill him; that's why I gotta do it first."

"You-... You'd kill your brother, Sam?"

Angrily, Sam snapped back, "He didn't seem to think twice about torturing me for centuries, Cas!"

"You can't really blame him for breaking can you? If you were given the chance, wouldn't you have picked up a blade?"

"I did have the chance, but I said no. I never hurt Dean in Hell."

"And yet you are willing to kill him on Earth?"

Sam went silent at Castiel's counterargument, and chewed the inside of his lip.

"There must be another way." Castiel told him hopefully. As he opened his mouth to suggest where they ought to begin, a pained groan suddenly leapt from his throat, and he doubled over.

"Cas?" Sam hurried to his friend's side. "Cas! What's happening?!"

In a strained voice barely above a croak, Castiel wheezed out, "Th-the souls... M-my vessel c-can't hold them much longer."

"Souls? What souls?"

"P-Purgatory."

"What- never mind. How do we get them out of you?"

"C-can't. W-won't b'able to-t'save Dean."

"You're no good to Dean if you're dead. We'll figure something else out later, but right now, we're getting those souls out of you." Sam didn't notice his continuous use of 'we.' He was far too used to have Dean by his side to change pronouns now.

"N-need Death."

"Hey, hey, hey, don't talk like that, you're not gonna die."

"N-no, the horseman. Can't open Purgatory w-without lunar eclipse. Death can m-make one."

"Okay, we can summon- Death." It didn't sound like a good idea in the slightest, but Sam couldn't let Castiel die after all he had sacrificed to save him. He'd already lost enough of his family today.

* * *

Hell had gone downhill since Dean's last visit. Waiting in lines? That was Crowley's idea of eternal torture? Dumbass. Dean knew what made a good Hell; he'd lived through it twice now.

His new demon buddy was feeling particularly chatty about exactly what was happening in Hell right now. Sure, it had needed a little gentle persuasion from the angel blade, but, hey, at least it was talking.

"How many followers has Crowley got?" Dean grilled in an unforgiving tone. The demon whimpered, and bit its lip in reluctance to answer. Dean sighed, dragging and digging the knife down an already weeping cut on its chest. "Speak up," he cooed to the screaming demon. "I can't hear you."

"Cr-Crowley'll kill me!" It sobbed.

"Don't worry; I ain't gonna give him the chance. You talk, I let you die. Quickly."

Death to a demon was far less gruesome than being punished by the King for treason. Dean's deal honestly sounded blissful to the thing. "Th-there's still loyalists left."

"Loyalists of Lucifer?"

It nodded. "B-but Crowley's been tracking 'em down, a-and killing them."

"Oh, so the King's the jealous type, huh?"

The demon simply quaked in response.

"What I'm taking from all this," Dean thought out loud, as he mindlessly twirled the blade in his hand. "Is that he's using scare tactics to get his way. Doesn't really sound like the right way to win a throne, does it?"

Afraid of what Dean might do in response if it didn't answer, (Ironic, wasn't it?) the demon frantically shook its head, making Dean chuckle.

"Sounds like Hell could use a little- liberation."

Almost cautiously, the demon nodded again.

"Well," Dean wiped the blood from the blade on one of the torn shreds of the demon's shirt. "You gave me all I need information-wise. Thanks for that."

Letting out a sigh of relief, the demon sagged down its head. It suddenly went up on a garbled yell when Dean drove the blade through the demon's thigh.

"Sorry, can't actually let you go just yet." The knife twisted with almost loving precision. "This is just was too much fun."

* * *

AN: Wanna know something exciting? I know exactly where I'm going with this! I've got the whole rest of the story plotted out in my head, so now I just gotta put it all on words! If y'all got time, drop a review, it really makes my day every time! See y'all soon!


	8. No Empathy Inside

AN: I started this story in a barely used notebook, but I now have resorted to stapling stray papers to the end of it because that's how long this story has gotten. In case you've not yet noticed, I'm pretty much skipping season 7. Don't mean to offend you if you liked them, but I abhorred the Leviathans. Seriously, they can rot in Purgatory, those hellacious little fishmen.

* * *

Death had been far less than pleased to create a lunar eclipse, but at least he had agreed to do it without demanding anyone's soul in return. He wasn't as unsympathetic as people would assume; he just did as his job dictated. If he had to kill, then he killed. It was as simple as that.

As grateful as Sam was, his worry Cas was far greater at the moment. He doubted Castiel was strong enough to teleport them to the door to Purgatory, so he had had to drive. The entire ride, he had heard every single groan or gasp of pain that Castiel hadn't prevented from slipping loose. Sam had wished he was in the Impala; he could have turned on the radio and play some of Dean's music to try and distract them both.

Then again, that would've just mocked them with the knowledge that Dean was no longer with them. ACDC's melodies would just remind Sam and Castiel of their failures.

After what seemed like far too long of a drive, they finally arrived at the building that Castiel had managed to point out with his trembling finger. Practically being carried by Sam, Castiel made his way inside. He croaked out where Sam could find the blood to open the door, and as soon as Sam left to retrieve it, Castiel let himself slide down the wall in exhaustion.

Hands pressed his stomach from the _inside,_ and the unholy and wrong touches made Castiel want to throw up each and every soul, one by one, so long as he'd never have to feel that kind of invasion again.

"Let us out, let us out, let us out!" The hundreds upon thousands of souls screamed inside his head. He just wanted it to stop; maybe giving into the voices and letting them takeover would let Castiel find his peace.

"Cas!" Sam announced as he entered the room, snapping Castiel's attention back to reality. "I-I got it."

Sam looked- off, haunted. Castiel couldn't really blame him for appearing so after all he'd endured, and Sam had yet to fall apart, but right now he looked like he was right on the brink of snapping. "Y-you don't look well, Sam."

A humourless laugh left Sam's mouth. "Look who's talking."

It was true; Castiel's poor vessel was ripped and peeling, unable to stand the weight of all that power inside it any longer. But how typical of Sam to avoid talking about his own needs in order to save someone else. Per-Winchester usual.

"C'mon, buddy." Sam urged as he eased Cas to his feet. He twitched momentarily towards an unheard voice behind him. _"I'm out, I'm out, he isn't real."_ He tried to convince himself, for Lucifer was leaning against the door frame; wiggling his fingers at Sam like a teenage girl would if she was waving at a boy she fancied.

Castiel staggered up, and stood in front of the blood sigil before him. The voices continued shouting at him, but it didn't put Castiel off enough to stop him from reciting the spell, and then Purgatory opened. He opened his mouth, and felt the monsters literally clawing their way out his throat. He felt some cling on to him, but the sensation of the other souls sliding past his gag reflex caused him to heave the remaining souls out of his body. With a final cough, he knew he was free.

* * *

There was almost a beautiful irony with Dean gunning for Hell's throne. Sam was the one who demons used to call, "The Boy King" but he'd never been willing to step up and accept his responsibility. The way Dean saw it, he still fit the bloodline; Hell's crown was rightfully his.

No doubt his little brother was looking for him right this very second, but Dean just couldn't bother to give a damn.

The thing he had missed the most when he was in Hell was the Impala, his baby. It was the next stop on his list; he wanted that car back.

She wasn't in the field Castiel had raised him in, so he figured an old friend of his would know where she had gone: Bobby Singer.

Let's see, Dean could either spring a sudden and violent visitation to Bobby's, or pretend that he was really back and have holy water and salt thrown in his face... Surprise visit it is.

Moonlight illuminated the crazed look in Dean's eyes; in fact, it was the only relatively light thing in those soulless black eyes he now had, but damn did he _love _them.

Playing with his beloved angel blade, he gave it a little toss, and then placed it back in his coat pocket. Spotting the most decent car in the lot he was in, he smashed a window with his elbow, and let himself inside.

Driving to Bobby's house, even with such a dark intention in mind, still somehow felt- normal to Dean. In that other life, Bobby was Dean's friend; he would have been able to drive to Bobby's nonstop from anywhere in the country. It was once his home, and it would soon be drenched with blood. Seemed like all his 'homes' ended up that way eventually.

Break down the door, or sneak in? Eh, screw it. Dean lifted his foot, kicked, and with the aid of his demonic powers, the door cracked open with a loud crash. "Knock, knock!" Dean shouted to the silence. He waited in the quiet a moment longer before calling out, "C'mon, Bobby, you're supposed to say, 'Who's there?'"

A low growl was all the warning Dean got before some kind of acid latched onto his face, and burned his flesh. No, not acid; holy water. Good God, is this really how it felt to be hit with this crap? Dean actually felt bad for all the times he had tormented demons with it. But he could feel sorry later; right now, he just wanted to feel hot, slick blood run down his arms.

Recovering quickly, Dean swung around, and tackled Bobby to the floor. More holy water hissed and sizzled as it came into contact with his skin again, and Bobby managed to roll out from underneath Dean. "You made a big mistake showing up with that boy's face." Bobby threatened.

Chuckling as the stinging slowly died down, Dean shook his head. "I've got bad news for you, Bobby..." Dean let his eyes slip black, just for emphasis. "I ain't possessed. All me in here."

"My ass!" Bobby yanked out a salt rifle, and with a hint of apology on his face, he shot Dean full of rock salt.

It wasn't like Dean hadn't been shot with rock salt before, (Thanks for that, Sam!) but being a demon made it send sparks of agony through his chest, down his spine, all the way down to his feet, then all the way back up his spine again. He shouted in anger and pain, feeling every grain corroding away his flesh with every jostle or flinch of his body. Hissing in agitation, Dean gathered himself back together, and leapt to his feet with a ragged cry. He cracked his neck, black eyes glistening with hatred. "S-so... You been treating my baby good?"

Bobby lifted the rifle to shoot Dean again, but Dean flicked his fingers and the gun dropped. Backing away, Bobby shouted, "It ain't your car, you son of a bitch! You got his face, but that don't make you my Dean." He reached for another gun, but Dean flicked his fingers again, sending Bobby to the wall.

"Guess I can't really convince you that it really is me. Won't mean much to you when you're dead though." Dean shrugged nonchalantly.

Keeping Bobby pinned to the wall, Dean sauntered into the kitchen, searching for a beer. He grabbed one from the fridge and took a long sip, but then he began twitching uncontrollably when he heard voice reciting an exorcism from the other room. Shuddering with blatant discomfort, Dean curled his hand into a tight fist, and he heard Bobby gasping as Dean choked him with his invisible hand.

"Really, Bobby? Gonna exorcise me without even saying 'hello?' That just hurts my feelings." Silver gleamed in the moonlight as Dean brought out his angel blade. "But it probably didn't hurt as much as this."

And then Dean slid the blade through Bobby's gut; right on the scar where he had stabbed himself when he was possessed. Bobby's eyes went wide with pain and shock, and then he squeezed them shut as the knife slowly twisted inside him.

"Remember when you almost did this to me? Sure, you were possessed, but it still- _cut deep_." On the last two words, he pushed the blade in even deeper. "Know what? I wish I would've asked what you've been up to lately, but it's probably something along the lines of drowning your liver in whiskey and trying to find a way to pull me and Sammy outta the Cage, huh?" He ripped the angel blade out, and Bobby fell to the floor, blood now spurting from the wound now that nothing was obstructing it.

Desperate and in pain, Bobby reached out his hand to Dean, silently pleading for some kind of recognition or compassion. "I-" He managed to sputter. "I been like a f-father to you, boy." Blood coated his teeth and dribbled down his lips as he spoke.

"Yeah, well, I've got daddy issues." With an almost merciful flick of his wrist, Dean snapped Bobby's neck. "Thanks for taking care of my car for me."

The Impala was still in beautiful shape. Bobby must've looked after her after all. He sat down in the front seat, and then he noticed Bobby's blood dripping off his hands, and staining the seat's leather.

What a damn shame.

* * *

I'msorryI'msosorryI'msososory! But Bobby wasn't around for the events I plan on using from season eight, so he had to go. And I know, I'm terrible for making Dean be the one to do it, but I think that's a much better ending than being shot in the head by Dick. Leave a review if y'all have got time, and lemme know what you thought so far. See y'all soon!


	9. Time Keeps on Slipping Away

AN: *Spends twelve hours at a show choir competition; Muse is dead. Tries to go to bed at midnight; Muse decides to kick in until two thirty in the morning.* Not even kidding. So if people are a little out of character, or if things are kind of jumbled, it's cuz I'm running on very few hours of sleep. Sorry for the long wait, but this chapter is nice and long as a reward for your patience!

* * *

"How you feeling, Cas?" It had taken a few days, but Castiel was steadily recovering.

"My vessel is slowly beginning to mend. How are you doing, Sam? Are you still seeing- him?"

Sam's eyes shifted away from Castiel at the sound of Lucifer's childish snickering. For a long time, he had considered not telling Castiel about his seemingly never ending hallucinations, but keeping things to himself had nearly gotten him killed too many times already, so he had managed to buck up and admit it. His nod to Castiel was probably unnecessary, but he did anyway.

"I'm so sorry, Sam." Castiel attempted to console his friend.

"Isn't he cute, Sammy?" Lucifer teased with a mocking smile. "Bet you wished he closed the Cage door all the way, don't ya? I wouldn't be here without him." Lucifer patted Castiel on the back, and for a split second, Sam thought he saw Cas flinch.

"It's fine, really." Sam insisted. "I can handle it." His hand slipped to his back, and he silently dug his fingers into the supposedly healing scar, but he was positive that with the constant abuse he put it through that it had grown enflamed and irritated again. If he could hurt himself enough in this world- the _real _word- he could sometimes make the Devil go away, even if only for a little while. "Have you-"

"No," Castiel interrupted, soberly knowing what Sam was going to ask him. "I have not found out anything about Dean. But I may have found something else."

"What is it?"

"During an- interrogation," Castiel dropped eye contact at the word, giving Sam the notion that it was probably a lot more heated than a simple discussion. "One of Raphael's followers mentioned something about a tablet."

"A tablet?"

Castiel nodded. "He didn't say much, other than that there are three tablets in existence; Leviathans, Heaven, and Hell."

"What's a Leviathan?"

"A creature from Purgatory. They feed on humans, and have the ability to take form of whoever they've eaten. From what the angel let on about the tablet, it says how to defeat them."

"Where are you going with this, Cas?"

"If the Leviathan tablet holds the key to stopping them, what do you imagine could be on Hell's tablet?"

Processing what he had just heard, Sam eagerly stood up. "So, you're saying there's a way to stop Hell?"

"There's no telling exactly what is on it, but it could be the key to finally being one step ahead of them."

"Alright, then let's go get it!" Sam watched Castiel's expression fall, and Sam's hope went right down with it. "Cas?"

"I do not know exactly where to find it."

Lucifer was suddenly blaring the _whomp, whomp, whomp, waaaahh _tune on a trombone he had made appear out of nowhere, making Sam's face harden, upset by both Lucifer, and the fact that Castiel had lead him on.

"But," Castiel added. "I do know where to start looking."

A start wasn't great, but it was better than nothing. "I'm with you all the way, Cas."

* * *

Despite being a Winchester, Dean had managed to get a fairly decent amount of followers topside. But unlike Crowley, he didn't have to rely on fear to get them. He simply told them about his experiences in Hell, and how he'd turned into this, more specifically, who had turned him into this. Say the name 'Lucifer' and the demons either flock right to you, or they try to run home to daddy. Those little brats need to grow up. Which they potentially could have, that is if Dean hadn't killed them the second he doubted their loyalties.

Still, Dean was a fair guy. He'd reward those who deserved it, and he'd punish whoever needed to learn their place. For example, Sam and Castiel were going to pay once he finally caught up with them.

On a lighter note, one of his followers had announced that they'd heard some very interesting news. This could either end with a congratulatory pat on the back, or with blood speckling the floor. Honestly, Dean was hoping for the latter.

"Come on in, Meg." Dean motioned her in to what he had deemed as his office. As a human, he had always hated Meg, well, not that he was exactly in love with her as a demon either, but she hated Crowley just as much as he did, and that made her useful.

"I always thought you Winchesters were a little high and might for my taste, but I think you're growing into really nice there, Dean-o."

"If you're looking for a way to weasel your way in as my queen, you're barking up the wrong tree."

Meg chuckled. "Slow down, big boy. No barking here. Just thought I'd let you in on a little tale I've been told."

"I'm listening."

"So, I was torturing one of Crowley's minions-"

Dean cut her off with w chuckle. "That's always a good start."

Meg giggled. "And they said something about the demon tablet."

"That some kind of demon bedtime story?"

"Urban legend more like. Rumour has it that it's got the way to close Hell written on it somewhere."

No longer smiling, Dean huffed. "That sounds like a potential problem."

"Bright side; there's only a few people out there who can read it. We track 'em down before anybody else, and we've got the upper hand."

"You got a name for me?"

Nodding, Meg replied, "Kevin Tran. Some AP student over at-"

"Don't care. Can you get him or not?"

Meg smiled. "Anything for my King."

* * *

Kevin Tran was an honours student, and yet somehow he found himself currently talking to a man who claimed to fight monsters, and another guy who thought he was an angel. It was all kind of a lot to take in, so when Kevin only sputtered out cries of confusion, neither man appeared to be very affected.

"Look," Sam tried to explain. "I know this sounds a little crazy-"

"A little?!" To say Kevin was freaking out was a gross understatement. "I get struck by lightning one night, then next thing I know there's an 'angel' in my dorm room telling me about closing the gates of Hell, and that I-I'm a prophet of Jesus or something!"

"This is nothing to be afraid of." Castiel added.

"You said Hell! Hell means demons, and that definitely sounds like something I should be afraid of!"

It appeared as though Castiel was about to protest, but Sam answered first. "You're right."

Kevin just blubbered. Sure, he thought he was right, but he had been hoping for some kind of comfort in the matter.

"You should be afraid of them." Sam continued. "If they find out about you, which they probably already have, they're gonna track you down, and they're gonna torture you until you tell them every single thing that's on that tablet. It doesn't matter if you want this or not. You have it, and you can't escape it."

There were a few beats of silence, before Castiel commented, "That was a little harsh, don't you think, Sam?"

"It's the truth and you know it, Cas." Sam countered. "If our side knows about you, I don't know how long you've got before the other side learns."

Abruptly, as though the universe just loved to screw them over, the lights began to flicker.

"Wh-wh-what's happening?!" Kevin demanded frantically.

"They're coming." Sam announced as he stood up, taking a protective stance in front of Kevin. Being half a foot taller than him made Sam a pretty good meat shield.

"Hey!" Lucifer finally decided to make his 'presence' known by shouting to the world. "Prophet's right here! Cowering behind my bunk buddy! Get 'im while he's hot!" Flames slowly began creeping like snakes up then around Sam's legs. It burned just as much as a real fire would, but Sam managed to ignore it, and focus on the bigger problem.

The door swung open before Sam could really prepare himself, and next thing he knew, he was plastered to the wall, unable to move.

"Well, well, well." Crowley greeted. Sam hadn't seen him since before he fell in the pit, which had been centuries to Sam, but he still never forgot a face. "If it isn't my old business partner."

Had-had Sam heard him correctly? "'Business partner?'" The way Castiel purposefully moved his eyes away from Sam made his heart sink. "Cas, what's he talking about?"

"My, my, Castiel." Crowley chastised with a chuckle. "You never told him about our little arrangement? You make it seem like we had an affair, dearie."

"What arrangement?!" Sam demanded, noticeably angrier.

"You don't really think sweet little Cassie got all those souls on his own, now do you Moose?"

"Y-you're working for him?" Kevin finally managed to squeak out.

"Crowley," Castiel warned. "I suggest you stop talking."

"Couldn't agree more." Announced a different, yet still distantly familiar, voice. Crowley suddenly fell to his knees, blood burbling past his lips. A woman with black hair stepped in front of the door. "You coming or what, boys?"

That face… Could it really be, "Meg?" Sam asked disbelievingly.

"You really are a moose, aren't you? You wanna do introductions, or you wanna flee?"

Despite his numerous question and doubts, Sam elected to follow Meg. After what Crowley had just revealed about Cas, Meg was officially the most trustworthy person in the room. As they ran off the campus, one question slipped loose. "How did you find us?"

"Your brother sent me. You still got a car, right?"

"Allow me." Castiel stepped in. He pressed his fingers to Meg and Sam's foreheads, shortly followed by Kevin's, and took them all somewhere far away from Crowley and the undeniable amount of followers he had probably brought with him.

Clearly still mad about Castiel's betrayal, Sam made no effort to thank him, and he turned back to Meg. "You're working for Dean?"

"I use 'working for' very loosely. Right now, he's the only downstairs guy with power who doesn't want my head on a stick. I run a few errands for him, and he lets my head stay attached to my body."

"What kind of 'errands?'" Sam inquired cautiously.

"Not in front of the honours kid. Anyway, once I'd heard about this little cutie," She pinched Kevin's cheek like an overly affectionate aunt fawning over a newborn baby. "I just had to make sure he didn't fall into the wrong hands."

"What exactly are you saying?" Castiel questioned doubtfully.

"I don't like Dean," She answered. "But he's a lot less likely to kill me than Crowley. I've just been waiting for the right time to jump ship. I miss the good ol' days. Back before my dear old daddy decided to make plans, and rules. I guess I just miss the beautiful anarchy Hell use to have."

"Meaning you want to help us?" Sam confirmed.

"Meaning I want to guarantee my own safety. I figure, I'm on two-thirds of the competing sides, those are some friendly looking odds."

"How do we know Dean didn't send you so you could tell him everything our side's planning?"

"Guess you don't." Meg shrugged. "Looks like you're gonna have to use some of that human thing called trust, Sammy. What do you say? You got a friend in me? Promise not to possess you this time."

"Sam," Castiel advised. "You can't be considering-"

"Really, Cas?" Sam snapped. "You're gonna lecture me about siding with a demon after what just happened?" He didn't wait for Castiel to respond before looking back to Meg. "You got a deal."

"Let's leave this unofficial." She said with a smile. "I've already kissed enough Winchesters for one lifetime."

* * *

Bringing back some fandom favourites, who also happen to be my favourites. Now, I've got a soft spot for Megstiel, so I might poke at it a bit, but it'll never be super in-your-face. This is sammysmissingshoe we're talking about here. I'm not known for romance. I love me dat tortured Sammy, and angst abound, so that's what there's always gonna be. Let me know what you guys think so far, and I'll try to do better with updates. Seriously, show choir is taking over my life.


	10. But We Haven't Learned

AN: Okay, Kevin's still pretty spastic in this chapter, but I think the kid deserves a good freak out. As tough as we all like to pretend we are, we'd crap ourselves if this stuff ended up being real. Also, LAST NIGHT'S EPISODES HOLY HECK I WAS LEGIT IN TEARS! AND NOW WE'VE GOT ANOTHER HELLATUS GAAAAHHH! Okay, now that that's out of the way, please enjoy the newest chapter!

* * *

A hunter, a demon, a prophet, and an angel check into a hotel room. If you're waiting for a punch line, there isn't one. The idea itself was funny enough. You'd expect for there to be some kind of endless civil war between them, but honestly? It was just awkward. Meg had ventured off to God knows where to do God knows what, leaving Sam to give Kevin "The Talk" about the supernatural. Once Sam had finished, Kevin had either accepted it, or was in too much shock to respond.

Silence fell over the room for quite some time, but then the door crashed open, revealing a blood covered Meg standing underneath its frame.

"What the hell?!" Sam jumped.

"You salted the door." Meg stated plainly as she crossed the now broken salt line.

"You could've knocked!" Sam argued.

Meg shrugged. "This way was easier."

"Am I the only that noticed that she's got blood all over her?!" Looked like Kevin still wasn't quite done freaking out yet.

"Calm down, kid. It's not human if that makes you feel better."

"Not really." Sam and Kevin said in unison.

"What if I told you that I had a lead on the demon tablet?"

That brought stunned silence to the room once again, finally being broken by a hope filled Sam. "How?"

Meg gestured to the blood on her clothes. "How do you think, Sammy?"

With Dean gone, no one else was calling Sam 'Sammy,' and truthfully, it was almost comforting to have someone say it again, even though it wasn't his brother. It almost gave him hope. "One of Crowley's demons, or Dean's?"

"It doesn't matter." Castiel spoke up. "If one single demon on either side knows, then I can guarantee that there's going to be a lot of demons trying to get there first."

"Okay," Sam concurred. "Meg, Cas, you two go find the tablet. I'll stay here with Kevin."

"Are you sure you'll be able to handle it on your own?" Castiel asked.

Turning away slightly, Sam replied, "I'll be fine." Sam was still pissed to say the least. If he was being honest with himself, he knew that he wasn't sending Cas with Meg just as backup. He didn't entirely trust either of them completely, so he figured one could watch the other. "You better get going." Sam was well aware of how cold he was being.

Emotional cues weren't something Castiel usually picked up on, but he could definitely tell that Sam was still angry with him, so he obliged and set off with Meg.

"Somebody's giving you the cold shoulder. Bigtime." Meg pointed out as she walked beside Castiel.

"I don't blame him. I betrayed him."

"You both need to stop being such girls and grow a pair."

"A pair of what?"

Meg's eyebrows just rose at Castiel's cluelessness. "Forget it. You're lucky you've got a cute vessel, cuz it don't look like you got much else going for you."

"Was-was that meant to be a compliment?"

"Take it how you want it, big boy. We gonna do our thing or what?"

Thing? Oh, right, the tablet. "Where are we headed?"

* * *

"So…" Kevin started awkwardly. "How'd you get into hunting?"

Sam chuckled humourlessly. "That's a long story."

"And we've got a long time before we'll be doing anything useful."

"Read my book."

"Huh?"

"There's a book ser- nevermind."

Uncomfortable silence ensued once more, but then a sigil began glowing on the door to the- closet? Sam protectively shoved Kevin away from it, and he grabbed as many weapons as he could, when a well-dressed man suddenly fell out.

Sam aimed his gun, and promptly questioned, "Who the hell are you?"

"Are you John Winchester?"

"I asked you a question first."

"Please, time is of the essence! Are you John Winchester?"

"No." Sam answered truthfully. He then proceeded to shove the man up against the wall, pressing the gun under his jaw. "Now who the hell are you?!"

"Please," The man said again, managing to keep his voice calm. "I assure you, there is no need for violence."

"My door starts glowing, some guy falls out of my closet asking about my dad, and you don't think there's a need for violence?"

The man went quiet for a moment. "Your John Winchester's son?"

Cautiously, Sam answered. "Yeah."

"Then you must know where he is."

"Course I do. I'm the one who buried him."

Hurt flashed across the man's eyes. "John is dead?"

"Has been for a few years now." Sam replied as he tucked away his gun; the guy clearly wasn't posing much of a threat, so Sam saw no reason to continue keeping him at gunpoint. "Maybe I can try to help you. What's your name?"

"Henry." He answered. "Henry Winchester."

Sam was the one who went quiet this time. "You-you're my-"

"Grandfather. Yes, it would appear so."

"What- how- how are you even here?"

Henry pointed to the door, and just as it looked like he was going to explain himself, the room started shaking and rumbling, and then the sigil began glowing again.

"You expecting someone?" Sam asked with a horrible sense of foreboding settling in his gut.

Before Henry got the chance to answer, the door flew open again, and a woman stepped out; her old fashioned dress simply drenched in blood, her hair only a few shades lighter.

"Henry." She greeted. "Silly man, you forgot to lock the door."

Subtly, Sam was reaching for the demon killing knife, which Cas had managed to hold onto, even after his and Dean's descent into hell.

"But," She continued. "Spells never were your best subject, were they?"

Acting quickly, Sam stabbed the blade into her side. She instantly dropped to her knees, and her face sparked orange, but she just gasped and groaned in pain. Sam backed away as the flashing died down, and she rose to her feet.

"Now that is no way to treat a lady." She flicked her fingers, and Sam collided with the wall, his bones jarring with the abuse.

"Josie," Henry called out to her. "I know you're still in there. You must fight this."

Josie, rather the demon inside of her, laughed. "I'm afraid Josie's indisposed, pet. Now give me what I want, and I promise to kill you and your friends here quickly."

In protest, Kevin visibly shuddered with a small squeak, and hid himself further behind Henry. The demon laughed, and Sam used to distraction to reach for the holy water in his jacket. This demon may not be able to be killed with the blade, but hopefully holy water would still work. He flung the flask at her, and she screamed at the assault.

"Go, go, go, go, go!" Sam urged as he pushed Kevin and Henry out the door. Sam was following close behind, when he felt an invisible hand take hold of him, and yank him back into the room. His chance of escape was ripped away when the door slammed shut behind him. His head crashed into the wall, and he felt his vision starting to blur, but he could still make out 'Josie' towering over him, and she was laughing… Again. He felt her stroke his cheek, and he weakly tried to turn his head away from her wandering fingers.

"You think this is bad?" She cooed as she pinched his jaw between her fingers, and gave his head a little shake. "It'll be so much worse if Henry doesn't do as I ask. But in the meantime," She released his face, and brought her foot back. "Sleep." A fast moving high heeled shoe was the last thing Sam saw before unconsciousness claimed him.

* * *

Demons were waiting for them. As soon as Meg and Castiel had arrived at the crypt where the demon tablet was hidden, they had been ambushed. Meg was almost disturbingly agile with a blade; her clothes became even more stained the longer she fought, and Castiel slaughtered demons left and right with just a small touch, but it was still tiring.

Sam was right in staying back with Kevin. He wouldn't have had a chance against these odds, and Kevin would have managed to get captured along the way. That was probably what the demons were hoping for, and Castiel wasn't too upset about disappointing them.

After strenuous hours of fighting, Castiel and Meg had managed to pull off a miracle, and they came out victorious. Meg reached for the tablet, but Castiel took it before she had the chance to even touch it.

"C'mon, Clarence, we just had a little moment back there. Don't you trust me to hold on to one little tablet?"

"That 'little moment' you're referring to was us slaughtering innocent humans. No, I don't trust you with 'one little tablet.'" Castiel tucked it inside his pocket, which then began playing music. He pulled out the cell phone Sam had insisted he get, and 'Kevin' flashed across the caller ID. Castiel hadn't even said 'hello' before Kevin started frantically spouting nonsense on the other end.

"Castiel! Some guy fell out of our closet, turns out he's Sam's grandpa, but then some lady came out after him and said Henry had to give her something, and Sam tried to stab her, but she didn't die! How could she not die?!"

"Kevin-"

"But then Sam threw holy water on her, and Henry and I managed to get out in time, but she got Sam!"

Castiel's feeling of triumph faded in an instant. "Where are you now?"

"I-I kinda stole a car, and I'm driving the car, t-the one I stole and-"

With Meg beside him, Castiel popped up in the backseat, and Kevin nearly veered off the road in surprise. "D-Don't do that!"

"My apologies." Castiel said sincerely. "Now, tell me what happened to Sam."

* * *

Guess who's back? *Echoes back, back…* Back again? *Echoes gain, gain…* Yeah, I kinda love Abbadon, and I also love tortured Sam, so that's coming back. I've even got a little sneak preview at the end of this author's note. Drop a review if y'all've got time, and I'll be back with another chapter ASAP!

**Sneak Peek: **"But I find some things a little-" The gleam of a knife caught his eye as she twirled it between her fingers. "Confusing…"


	11. So In the End Now

AN: Sammysmissingshoe, your Sam girl is showing. *Giggles manically* Oh, I know. I know… Look at me, guys! Three chapters in one week! That's more like it!

* * *

"I love the future." Was the first thing Sam heard as he woke up. He tried to hold his aching head, but his arms were fastened together behind him with coarse rope. "But I find some things a little-" The gleam of a knife caught his eye as Josie twirled it between her fingers. "Confusing. Would you be a dear and show me what I've missed?"

Black smoke trickled from her mouth, and rushed directly towards Sam. He clenched his jaw tightly, but the demon's essence just pried it open and tried to force itself down his throat. When he felt it shoved out of him due to his anti-possession tattoo, he visibly relaxed. He sucked in air and coughed once he was finally free.

When the smoke ran back into Josie's body, her bright red lips were no longer pulled into a wide smile. "What's that all about? Hmm?"

Clamping his jaw stubbornly, Sam remained quiet. Screeching in anger, Josie raised her hand as though she were about to strike Sam, but then she calmly lowered it with her chilling smile plastered back on her face. "You're a hunter, which means you've probably got yourself a nice little 'no demons allowed' tattoo, am I right?" Her smile widened when she saw Sam's small twitch. "Thought so. Now I just get have myself a friendly, little scavenger hunt."

Her fingers brushed against his head, gently tucking a strand of hair behind his ear in a mockery of tenderness. They continued tracing lower; down his collarbone, past his pectorals, and down his ribcage, pausing just above the waistband of his jeans. The slight widening of Sam's eyes didn't get past her.

"You hiding something under here, maybe?"

Before her fingers could move another millimeter, Sam reared his legs back to kick her off him, but she simple held her hand out, and an invisible force struck him to the ground, his bound hands digging painfully into his back.

"Down, boy." She chastised with a light slap to his cheek. It didn't hurt, but the action was so humiliating, so demeaning, and yet he could do nothing to stop it.

"Not down there… Up here maybe?" With a yank on the top button of his flannel shirt, she was greeted with the V-neck he was wearing underneath.

Calmly picking up the knife she'd discarded, she tore open the shirt, being careful not to cut his skin.

"Well look at that." She tapped the tattoo above his heart with a manicured fingernail. "You've got all sorts of surprises under these layers." The other hand's fingers traced the definite outline of his well-defined abs. "Not sure what you're trying to hide."

Sam wanted to say something, _anything, _just to prove that he wasn't going to just accept this so easily. But he'd been in this position for too many centuries; he'd been submissive to pain for far too long to try and deny its inevitability now.

Knife in hand, Josie pressed the tip of the blade just above the tattoo, fully prepared to take her time with its removal.

"The waiting was always your least favourite part, wasn't it, Sammy?" Lucifer giggled from the corner. "Guess that's why it was always my favourite." Of course he had to be here right now. Sam was almost ready to welcome the pain if at least made Lucifer leave him alone for a while.

Gladly accepting his invitation, the pain greeted him with intensity far worse than he'd anticipated. The blade dug into his flesh until it was slicing the muscles below, yet this demon knew the human body well enough to avoid hitting anything vital.

Despite his best efforts to remain stoic, Sam lurched up, a primal scream torn from his throat. Sweat glistened off his forehead as Josie's power shoved him back to the floor. She gave the blade a little twist, and Sam moaned in pain; his body fought so hard against the force pinning him to the ground. As if moving might lessen the agony, but he was held steady.

"You've been holding out on me." She said over his pathetic noises. "You have a lovely voice. I can't wait to see what your head is like." With that said, smoke slipped past her lips, and jammed itself down Sam's throat; his tattoo now utterly helpless to protect him any longer. "Now, show me what you've seen." Her voice commanded.

Memories of his life began flashing through his head like snapshots from a family photo album, but they came and went far too fast, and Sam felt himself weakening at the bombardment of images. Even worse was when his more recent memories came to pass; blood, fire, Dean, unending pain, Dean causing him unending pain. It finally all became too much, and Sam finally passed out once more.

* * *

"Who is the demon who took Sam?" Castiel interjected after Henry was through explaining how he had gotten to this time period, but he had still left the most prominent question unanswered.

"Her name is Abbadon. It is my fault that she has come here." Henry admitted shamefully.

"Abbadon? I've heard that name before. She is a Knight of Hell."

"Since when does Hell need knights?" Kevin asked.

"They are handpicked my Lucifer himself." Henry clarified. "But I had thought that arch angels had wiped them all out."

"Maybe she's the last one." Kevin suggested.

"How do you know about angels and knights?" Castiel inquired.

"Surely Sam has mentioned his legacy."

"What legacy?" Meg, Kevin, and Castiel all asked in unison.

"Being a man of letters."

Confused silence fell over the car, before Meg finally spoke up. "A what?"

"He-he is a man of letters, isn't he?"

"Nope." Meg answered quickly, almost callously. "He's a hunter, and not a half bad one either. Although he did kinda start the apocalypse."

"This- this cannot be." Henry said in disbelief. "John was meant to raise him as a man of letters. Unless… I don't come home to John and tell him." Henry looked up at Castiel, hoping to find that his thoughts weren't true.

"I'm sorry," Castiel comforted sincerely. "But this is what's happened."

"You still haven't told us what makes your boys club so special there, Ace." Meg pointed out. "Or what the hell you're doing here."

Henry reached into his pocket, and pulled out an old looking box with a strange symbol engraved on it. "Many great men lost their lives trying to protect this, and I am going to make sure that their sacrifices were not in vain."

"What's in the box?" Meg asked with a fairly decent Brad Pitt impression.

"I don't know." Henry admitted as he stowed it back into his pocket.

"Well, there's gotta be some-" Kevin was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. 'Sam' flashed across the screen. "It's Sam!" Kevin declared eagerly.

Fumbling with the buttons for a moment, Castiel managed to answer it, and put it on speakerphone.

"Sam?" Henry called out hopefully.

A feminine chuckle on the other end dashed everyone's hopes. "Nope. Much sexier. Try again."

"Abbadon." Henry breathed out.

"Good boy. Now, you hand yourself over, along with the box, or else your _grandson's _dead. He's already pretty miserable over here, no matter how much I try to cheer him up. Isn't that right, Sammy?" There was a very brief pause, followed by a hoarse scream; Sam's hoarse scream. Her laugh was heard again, and then her warning. "Don't keep me waiting." The phone clicked, marking the end of the call.

"We need to get Sam back." Castiel said without a moment's hesitation.

"We cannot let her get her hands on this box." Henry argued.

"You mean the one you don't even know anything about?" Meg remarked.

"If we could just buy some time-"

"You heard her, Henry." Castiel interrupted. "She is going to continue torturing Sam unless we give her what she wants."

"Or if she _thinks _we give her what she wants." Kevin suggested slyly.

"What are you proposing we do?" Henry asked. Kevin's phone went off again, a text message this time, revealing the address where she and Sam would be waiting.

"We've got two people here that Abbadon doesn't know about. I can take you to Abbadon while Castiel and Meg find out what's up with the box."

"How?" Meg asked.

"Are there any men of letters left?" Kevin asked Henry. "Anyone you could talk to about it?"

"There may have been some that survived Abbadon's attack, but how will we be able to find out?"

"Sam's got his computer in the back."

Henry- laughed? "You couldn't possibly fit a computer in a car."

"Welcome to 2012, dude. We gotta stop somewhere with Wi-Fi."

"Diner up ahead." Meg pointed at the sign, and Kevin pulled into the lot.

After ordering some food so that it didn't seem like they were only there for the internet service, Kevin started clacking away on the keyboard. "Give me some names."

Henry listed off some names of potential survivors, but when Kevin's results brought up the name 'Albertus Magnus', his interest was piqued.

"That name," Henry explained. "It's the one men of letter use when going incognito. This could be a lead."

"Meg and I will follow it," Castiel agreed, then added, "But you and Kevin need to go find Sam."

"How are we gonna do that if we can't kill Abbadon?" Kevin questioned.

"I have an idea." Henry announced. "But it will be dangerous for both of us, Kevin."

Kevin scoffed. "I have a feeling I'm gonna have to get used to dangerous. What's the plan?"

* * *

Nearly lost this chapter due to a spazz attack my computer had, so thank God for auto-save. One more review and my record for most reviews will be broken. Who wants to be the lucky record breaker? Any takers? Well, drop a review if y'all got the time, and I'll see you guys soon!


	12. What Have We Gained?

AN: Okay, so this chapter was written over a period of like one and a half weeks, so it's kinda disconnected and filler-y, so sorry about that, but I tried to make the chapter longer to make up for it. Hope y'all enjoy!

* * *

Luckily for him, Sam was still unconscious at the moment. Abbadon would have hated for him to be bored, and she would have used her own methods of entertainment to keep him occupied.

Abbadon was patient when she had to be. When she was waiting for a victim to scream? She was patient. Removing Sam's tattoo? She was patient. Digging through his mind to access his memories? She was patient. Waiting for Henry and the boy, Kevin, to show up with the box? Then she was not so patient.

But she had seen some rather unexpected things in Sam's head. It wasn't just typical hunter memories, but there were images of Hell and Lucifer amongst everything else. But the one thing above all else that had caught her eye, was his brother. The Winchesters certainly had an interesting family history, but their present situation was what intrigued her the most. Sam's brother, Dean, had apparently turned into a demon after spending centuries in dear old Luci's Cage. But what she wasn't so happy about was the fact that he was trying to obtain Hell's crown.

Who the hell gave him the right? He wasn't chosen by Lucifer himself to become what he is; he just turned. He may think that he's special because of where he became a demon, but he was nothing compared to Abbadon. If anyone deserved the throne, it was her.

Besides being patient, Abbadon was also smart, almost scarily so. She wasn't going to outright challenge Dean, she was going to take her time. She would work under his thumb for as long as it took, and as soon as Dean's back is turned, she'll swipe the throne right out from under his lifeless corpse.

Using the blood that still steadily trickled from Sam's chest, she let it flow into a cup, occasionally shoving her fingers into the wound to increase the blood flow, making Sam moan in his unconscious state. Abbadon's native tongue slipped past her lips, and Sam's blood began bubbling in the cup. She waited for a moment before she heard what she could only assume was Dean Winchester's voice.

"You rang?"

"Hello, Dean." Josie's dark lipstick made her teeth appear eerily white when she smiled. "I hear you're the one I have the honour of calling my king."

"Call me whatever the hell you want, but what should I call you?"

"My name is Abbadon, the only living Knight of Hell. Have you heard of me?"

"I'd rather hear why you decided to take up the king's valuable time with this dumbass introduction."

"Busy man I see. I'd just like to offer my services to you. I've even got your baby brother all nice and trussed up at my feet right now." She nudged Sam's midsection with her foot at that statement. "I'm more than willing to hand him over to you."

Dean's side of the call went quiet for a moment. "And what are you asking for in return?"

"I'm a kiss-up, pretty boy. I grant you a favour, I'm simply expecting you to return it someday."

"What kind of favour we talking here?"

Abbadon chuckled. "Guess I'll have to see what comes up. I'll give Sam over once I finish my personal business with him. He's an important bargaining chip. See you soon, darling."

The throne was as good as hers.

* * *

"Not sure about you," Kevin remarked to Henry after hearing his ridiculously suicidal plan. "But I've never decapitated a Knight of Hell before. I've never decapitated anyone!"

"When your life is on the line, I am sure you will find the strength to do your part." Henry assured.

"We've only got one devil's trap bullet. You could get seriously hurt, or even killed, Henry."

"That is a risk I will have to take." Henry admitted soberly. "I believe we are here. Put these on me." Henry handed Kevin a pair of handcuffs.

Reluctance showed on Kevin's face, mixing with confusion. "Uhh…"

"We have to make this look real to Abbadon if we are going to fool her. I will be able to get out of them. Trust me. We must hurry."

Henry and Kevin got out of the car, and Kevin fastened the handcuffs on Henry's wrists behind his back. They entered the warehouse, and the smell of blood hit them instantly.

Abbadon hovered over Sam's body, which was just littered with cuts. There was a gushing wound where his tattoo had once been, and he was barely conscious. Abbadon grabbed Sam by the hair, and yanked his head up, and his face scrunched up in silent pain. "Hello, boys. Say 'hi', Sam."

"Eat me." Sam ground out. He winced when Abbadon tightened her hold, but then let him drop to the floor with a thud.

"I hope you boys brought the box." She chided.

Kevin pulled out the box, making a show of putting in in Henry's jacket, but then nonchalantly slid it out, replacing it with a deck of playing cards instead. "Now, let Sam go."

"My only interest is Henry and the box." Abbadon lied with an all too convincing smile. "You two are free to go." She yanked Sam up again by the back of his collar, and spoke in a low voice, only for him to hear. "You've been a fun boy to play with, but you can go back to hunting for your demonic brother now." She gave him a harsh shove forward, he stumbled, but then he regained his footing.

As Sam passed Henry on his walk over to Kevin, he uttered a sincere apology. "Henry, I'm sorry."

"Save it." Henry growled, simply to keep up appearances of course. Henry silently worked the cuffs until he felt them slip off.

Kevin cut Sam loose, and turned to the door, when it suddenly slammed shut. "We had a deal!" Kevin shouted ash he whipped back around to face Abbadon.

Abbadon laughed once more. "Surprise. I lied." Without another word, she thrust her hand straight through Henry's chest.

"Henry!" Sam yelled as he hurried to go aid Henry, but was stopped as Kevin put his arm out.

"Wait." Kevin ordered in a hushed voice.

Henry's face was twisted in pain, but a bloody smile formed on his lips as his freed hands reached into his back pocket. "You're not the only one." And he shot Abbadon right below her jaw.

Assuming that was what he was supposed to wait for, Sam then rushed to Henry's side, easing him to the floor as he no longer had the ability to support himself.

Shaking her head to clear the blow, Abbadon whooped. "Whoo! What a blast! Now give me the box." She plucked the box from Henry's pocket, but when she saw that it wasn't what she was looking for, she shrieked in agitation. "Where is it?!"

No one answered, and she growled in anger. "Okay," She said in a suddenly scarily calm voice. "We'll do this the hard way." Her smoke slipped past her lips not more than two inches, before it was forced back into her body. She tried again, but it ended with the same result. She roared in pure ire. "Why am I stuck?!"

Albeit weakly, Henry was smiling, but Kevin was the one to answer her. "Devil's trap carved into a bullet. You're not going anywhere."

Sure Abbadon was pissed as hell, but she wasn't going to let it show, so she laughed. "You still didn't kill me." She pointed out with a grin.

"Maybe not, but you'll wish we had." Producing a machete, Kevin aimed to swing down the blade on her, but then the door to the warehouse flew open. No, scratch that, it completely caved in. Beneath the obliterated door stood a man Kevin had never seen before, but he had those black eyes Kevin felt all too familiar with.

"Hey, Sammy." The man greeted with a disturbingly friendly wave.

On a disbelieving breath, Sam blew out, "Dean?"

"Heard my baby brother got himself nabbed again. I just stopped by to come and get you, as usual. You could say you're welcome, you know."

"Kevin, run!" Sam commanded as he scrambled to his feet, taking most of Henry's weight with him.

Silently pleading that no one would stop him, Kevin obeyed Sam's instruction and headed for the back exit. Dean was having none of that, and he flicked his finger and threw Kevin to the wall, knocking him unconscious.

"Dean," Sam tried to reach some sense of humanity inside of his brother. "You got me, alright? Just let them go. Please."

"Now, not that I'm not a fan of hearing Sam here beg," Abbadon butted in. "But I'd like to know why you're here." She said as she gestured to Dean. "I was more than happy to hand your brother to you once I was through with him."

"Here's my issue with that." Dean retorted. "I'm the king. I ain't gonna sit around waiting for some low level demon to haggle for some godforsaken reason, with my brother as insurance. If I want my brother, I'm getting him. I'm not a sharer, sweetheart."

"And I'm not one who likes to have my plans interrupted." She countered.

Using their bickering as a distraction, Sam managed to reach the machete that Kevin had dropped. Without drawing her attention, Sam rushed up and lobbed off Abbadon's head. And God forgive him, because he turned around, and he threw it right at Dean. The blade lodged itself into Dean's chest, just above his right pectoral. Dean yelled in pain, and dropped to his knees.

Trying to block out the sound and his feelings of regret, Sam draped Henry's arm over his shoulder, and then hurried over to Kevin, who was already beginning to come to, and then they ran.

"Y-Your brother's a demon?" Kevin slurred.

"Later. C'mon, we gotta move." Sam urged as he laid Henry in the back, and Kevin sat beside him. The car's tires screeched as Sam stepped on the gas, and sped the hell outta dodge, simply praying that Dean would busy himself with the machete and Abbadon long enough for them to make their escape.

"How's he doing back there, Kevin?" Sam asked as he glanced in the rearview mirror.

Lifting his eyes up, Kevin just shook his head.

"You-" Henry called out weakly. "It appears as though you have a lot to deal with."

"It won't be so bad if you could stick around to help, Henry." Sam tried to encourage him.

Henry laughed humourlessly. "I can die happy knowing that my legacy will live on through you, Sam." His shaky hand reached into Kevin's pocket, where the real box was, and he handed it to Sam. "I only wish I'd lived to find out what this was." His words drifted into a coughing fit. "G-Good luck, Sam." And then there was nothing but dead silence in the car.

Eventually, Sam had called Cas and told him what had happened. Castiel informed him that inside the box was the key to the Men of Letters' bunker in Lebanon, Kansas. They'd agreed on meeting there… But not until after Sam buried Henry.

* * *

"I got a feeling," Dean's voice was strained as he slowly removed the blade from his chest while he scolded Abbadon's unmoving body. "That you can still hear me, so you're gonna listen." Dean grunted in pain when the blade was finally pulled loose with a sickening squelch.

"You seem to got a little attitude problem, and that doesn't roll over that well with me." At the word 'roll', Dean gave Abbadon's head a little kick, sending it tumbling across the floor.

"So," He continued. "I'm thinking that I get some of my more loyal followers to fix you, and they'll teach you what it means to serve under Dean Winchester's rule. And they'll make damn sure that you don't ever try to defy me again. How's that sound?"

For obvious reasons, Abbadon didn't answer.

"No objections?" Dean chuckled. "Awesome. Well, might as well put this blood to use again. Still looks like there's enough for one more call." He casually strolled over to the still glistening red cup. He was about to make the call, but then he stopped. He put the cup under his nose, and he inhaled deeply, followed by working his tongue along the rim of the glass. Sam's blood was a familiar and temptingly inviting taste. Dean swallowed in the teasing sample while muttering a silent promise.

"Soon, Sammy… Soon."

* * *

Yeah, don't mind me with my sexually dark last paragraph. That was for you Dean girls, so you're welcome. I honestly don't know why my muse works the way she does, but hey, I gotta love her sometimes. If you're liking her too, drop a review. Feedback is always appreciated. See y'all as soon!... I hope.


	13. Sanctus Espiritus

AN: Thanks to all the followers and favouriters out there! Chapter title translates to 'Holy Spirit.' So, y'all know I've got a soft spot for Megstiel, but there's always been this secret little ship buried in my heart, and it comes with a super cruel headcanon. But don't worry, there won't be actual romance, just poking fun at it.

* * *

"This the place?" Sam stood before the supposed bunker, idly turning the box in his hands. His fingernails still had dirt caking underneath them from his burial of Henry. It wasn't fair that he had had to give his life for Sam's.

"It's a gigantic secret-y building, Sammy." Meg teased. "What else would this be?"

Taking the key out of the box, Sam approached the door, giving the key a twist, and curiosity swept over him with intensity as the door swung open. The room was dark, but when the lights were turned on, Sam was in awe. "Son of a bitch…"

Remarkable was the first word that came to Sam's mind, promptly followed by, _"Holy crap, this place is incredible! How the hell has no one ever heard of it before?" _He was kind of excited.

"Holy crap!" Kevin was a lot more vocal with his astonishment.

"Damn." Meg commented with a whistle at the impressive interior of the building. "I can't go anywhere in this place." She pointed to a door. "Can't go in there." Another door. "Or there." Another. "Nope." Again. "Not that I'm hating on your new digs, but this place is kinda racist."

Warding was everywhere. Devil's traps, ancient symbols, archaic texts in languages Sam had never seen before. This truly was the motherload of protection against every kind of evil Sam had ever faced.

"This place," Castiel said. "Is incredible."

"Yeah, as long as you ignore my limited range of mobility." Meg noted. "You boys can go ahead and explore your little nerd-nest; I'll just stay somewhere where I won't get my ass stuck in a devil's trap."

"I guess I've finally got a safe place to start looking over the demon tablet then." Kevin supposed. "Even though I've never actually looked at the thing before and have no idea how to read it."

"It may take time," Explained Cas. "But your skills are a prophet will come in naturally."

Kevin scoffed. "'Naturally'… Cuz all of this is just the natural-est thing."

"Kevin-"

"I know, I know." Kevin grumbled, setting down his backpack and pulling out the tablet. His eyes squinted, and his brain began buzzing as it tried to make sense of the foreign symbols before him. He would have heard Sam and Castiel venturing off to further explore, but he was completely focused on the matter at hand right as of now.

The letters, or words, whatever they were, started shaking as though they were having a seizure. Kevin's head hurt like a bitch of a migraine, but then a single word formed at the top of the tablet: Demon.

"I can read it." He whispered, and then he shot his head up. "I can read it!" He proclaimed with exhilaration.

"Isn't reading supposed to be a quiet thing?" Meg asked with clear annoyance at Kevin's outburst. She'd begun busying herself with looking through the impressive stack of porn magazines those boy scouts had gathered over the years. "This place just got a whole lot more interesting.

Kevin hadn't been listening. More and more words began forming, until he was looking at- a definition? There was a definition for a demon?

"_A soul that had once been human, but had become corrupted over time, and turned into one of Lucifer's children."_

"Human soul?" Kevin muttered.

"What?" Meg asked.

"You used to be a human?"

Meg's usually apathetic face hid a mask of anger at Kevin's invasive question. "Yeah. So?"

"How'd you turn?"

"There's lots of pointy things in Hell. It's not that hard to be motivated down there."

"Do you remember being human?"

"No." She snapped. "Humanity's got no place in Hell. They make sure you never remember who you used to be once you turn."

"Could you remember if you tried?"

"Don't know. Never cared enough to."

"Maybe you-"

Meg cut him off. "Maybe you should get back to your stone."

Okay, boundaries had definitely been overstepped, and Kevin could tell. He turned his head back to the tablet; questions were buzzing inside his head, but they would most likely never be voiced.

* * *

"Dean would've loved this place." Sam said with a hint of remorse in his voice. Oh, how he missed his brother. For him, it had been centuries since he'd really seen _Dean._

"Yes, he would have enjoyed having a permanent home." Castiel agreed, but he was caught off guard by Sam scoffing. "What?"

"We don't do homes, Cas. He's never been the type of guy to settle down. Ask any girl he's slept with."

"I'm sure he would not object to the chance of having a home if given the opportunity."

"We've had one house out entire lives. It didn't really work out last time, so I wouldn't start putting up the 'Hang in there' kitty posters yet."

Continuing the rest of their exploration in silence, Sam and Castiel found themselves in front of a bookshelf, but a draft was gently blowing through the windowless room. Taking a chance, Sam gave the bookcase a good push, and it opened, revealing a hidden room behind it.

Chains and threatening instruments hung from the walls, swinging ominously with menacing clangs. The unexpectedness of the sight was far too much far too suddenly for Sam's fragile mind, and he collapsed on the ground in a series of convulsions.

Over the sounds of Lucifer's whispering taunts and mocks, Sam heard Cas calling out for him, trying to regain his attention, but his mind was overrun with memories at the instant. All Sam could see was Lucifer working a sickle under his fingernails, taking his time with peeling the skin off along with them.

"Please, Sam," Sam wanted to follow Cas's voice with every fibre of his being, anything to take him away from where he was now. "Whatever you are seeing, it isn't real."

"But it sure feels real," Lucifer mocked as he gave Sam's finger a harsh twist, the definite wrong way. "Doesn't it, Sammy?"

"Sam!" Finally, Cas's voice became the only one Sam heard. "Are you alright now?" He asked as he tried to aid Sam to his feet.

Embarrassed by his random attack, and particularly demeaned by Cas having to help him stand, Sam brushed off Cas's hands. "Yeah, I'm fine… So…" Might as well try to lighten the mood. "Looks like we got a dungeon."

"It would appear so."

"Could come in handy if we ever get our hands on Crowley."

"Or Dean." Castiel suggested, almost immediately regretting it when Sam paused, as though he was hesitant to have Dean anywhere near him.

"Sure, Cas." Sam finally concurred, but even Castiel could tell that he wasn't completely sincere in saying it.

Part of Castiel wanted to say something- anything that could potentially give Sam hope, but the matter would have to be put to rest until another time. At least for now.

At that moment, Sam's cellphone began to ring. A name Sam hadn't thought of in a scarily long time lit up on the screen. He eagerly flipped the phone open. "Bobby!"

* * *

The demon possessing Bobby Singer's corpse gruffed its way through tales it pretended to have heard about Sam's return. Sam appeared to be buying its BS, and when the demon mentioned something about a hoard of demons that required Sam's help, he promised that he'd be right over.

'Bobby' hung up the phone, only to turn it over to another call.

"Mr. Crowley? Yeah, Sam bought it. The trap's all set, sir."

* * *

Head burning with the reality of everything that was happening, Kevin had needed to take a break; as well as a couple dozen breaths into a paper bag. Everything that was occurring was just unbelievable.

Footsteps rushing towards him finally lowered his anxiety levels, and snapped him back to the present. "What's going on?"

"Demons." Sam answered. "Bigtime. Got a call from a friend who needs some help."

"I'll go with you." Meg offered.

Surprise and shock fell over everyone else's faces at her proposal.

"What?" She asked. "Not like I can even walk anywhere in this place anyway."

"You almost killed him once." Sam remarked, still obviously wary of the idea of having her around.

"Key word being almost, Sammy. Would you rather leave me here with the kid and the stone that could potentially wipe out my entire species?"

"Not a kid." Kevin protested, barely lifting his eyes off the tablet. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Clarence could use some rest anyway." Meg gestured to Cas with her head.

"I'm fine." Castiel insisted. How like a Winchester. "But someone should stay behind with Kevin." Noticing that Kevin was about to protest again, he added, "You were breathing into a bag a few moments ago."

Huffing, Kevin finally caved. "Fine. Guess it's just me and the angel."

"Leaves me and Sammy the chance to catch up. Wonder how much that pretty little head's changed since I last visited it."

Sam winced. "That's just creepy."

Smirking, Meg made her way up the stairs, Sam trudging closely behind her. The pair hopped into the car; the engine hummed, and then they were off.

Music flowed through the car, and if not for the radio, there would have been nothing but awkward stillness between the two of them.

"Kid's gotta learn to watch his mouth." Meg spoke up out of nowhere, almost making Sam jump in surprise at the break in the quiet.

"What kid? You mean Kevin?" At her nod, Sam continued. "What makes you say that?"

"Found out what demons are…" She paused, she looked almost- sad- for a moment, just a moment. "What we _were. _Tried to ask me if I remembered who I was."

Not knowing how to respond for a moment, Sam went soft again, but then he couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. "Do you? Remember?"

Meg quirked an eyebrow up at him. "Why do you care?"

"Well, you already know everything about me. I might be a lot more willing to trust you if I knew a single damn thing about you."

"Hi, I'm Meg. I'm a demon. I don't like Hell. Happy?"

"Would it kill you to-"

"Probably." She interrupted with a grin.

Nostrils flaring in annoyance, Sam shut up again and just focused on his driving. Sioux Falls couldn't come fast enough.

When it finally did come, Sam was looking forward to being able to save people again. Ever since he'd gotten back, everything he'd done had been for the sake of trying to find out Hell's secrets, or trying to clean up Cas's mess. This time, he'd really be saving people again.

For the first time, everything felt okay.

* * *

AN: Yeah, that's gonna last, Sammy. So, y'all find my secret ship yet? Here's a hint; It's Sam and Meg. Weird, I know, but it's the only relatively romantic aspect I've ever contributed to this show. Don't worry; no real romance will ever occur here. At least not in this story. Okay, so you've probably heard the rumour that reviewing gets chapters posted faster, and I'll let you in on something; It's true. At least for me. When I know that people are enjoying, I'm a lot more pressured to get the chapter up before too much time passes. Reviews have cured serious writer's block in the past, so if there's something you'd like to see, I'd love to hear it and I'll see if I can get it put in, but no guarantees. Aaannnndd I've rambled for too long. Oh well. See you soon guys! Really though, reviews are motivation. Thanks for reading!


	14. Insanity Is All Around Us

AN: Alright, who's up for some heart wrenching head-canons and agonizing angst? Everyone is? Well perfect, cuz that's what you're getting! Enjoy!

* * *

"He ain't gonna be happy to see me, ya know." Meg remarked as she and Sam stood outside Bobby's door. "Kinda seems like the type to hold a grudge for attempted murder."

Agreeing, Sam suggested, "You wait here for a minute while I explain to him what's going on. Don't come in any sooner or you'll get a faceful of holy water."

"Waiting it is." Meg made herself a little too comfortable on Bobby's porch, but at least she wouldn't be seen when Bobby opened the door.

Greeted with holy water to the face, Sam was glad he was 'home.' Bobby pulled him into a hug, a tight one. Bobby smelled of gunpowder and whiskey, as always. Although the whiskey scent was a lot stronger than usual, but Sam couldn't really blame him.

Amongst the usual smell of Bobby and his house, there was something else lingering into Sam's nose, just as familiar, but he just couldn't place it at the moment.

"It's good to see you, boy." Bobby said sincerely, with a slight quake of disbelief in his voice.

Sam was smiling, honest to God smiling. "You too, Bobby."

"How'd you manage to get out of that lock box?"

"Cas pulled me out. Long story." The embrace eventually stopped, and Sam spoke before Bobby could start asking more questions. "Long story for another time. Talk to me about the demons."

"They're everywhere around town lately. Not sure what's got 'em so excited, but there's killings left and right. Bout damn time I had some backup again."

"About that… Someone came along to help."

"Well I know it ain't your brother. Real sorry to hear what happened to him, but you got any clue on how to get him back yet?"

Solemnly, Sam shook his head. "Not yet. But I'm working on it." Lie. "Alright, you're not gonna like who I brought, but you're gonna have to trust me, okay?"

"You jumped into Hell to save the world, kid, course I trust you."

Pushing a steady breath out of his mouth, Sam just got it over with. "It's Meg."

In response, Bobby- growled? "I thought I smelled a whore." Bobby's eyes turned to that empty, obsidian shade of a demon.

Crap! Before Sam could manage to reach the demon killing blade, two more demons jumped out at him and tackled him to the floor, pinning down his arms. "Meg, r-!" He tried to yell out a warning, but one of the demons swiftly and cruelly punched him in the throat, effectively silencing him. His breaths came out in wracked heaves and gasps; he could barely breathe, calling out a warning was just out of the question.

Maybe he'd gotten lucky and Meg had sensed the danger. Winchester luck, of course, had decided to kick in, and he watched helplessly as Meg was dragged into the house by two other demons, blood leaking from a cut on her lip. Dammit.

The demons holding Sam yanked him to his feet, and he coughed quite a few more times, his air intake barely meeting its minimal qualifications.

"B-bobby," Sam wheezed. "Y-you can fight 'im. D-done it before…"

"Thing about that, Sammy," The Bobby demon explained as it lifted his shirt, revealing an infected, festering, but most importantly, _fatal _wound on his gut. "Ain't nobody in here to fight."

Every failure, every mistake, every damn loss suddenly came rushing out of the darkened corner of Sam's mind, and his mental volcano erupted in an unforgiving and angry explosion.

Despite barely being able to breathe, Sam's rush of rage fueled adrenaline gave him the energy to break out of the demon's grip, and he charged at the Bobby demon. It may have been reckless to charge a demon without his weapon, but it didn't stop him from swinging his fist directly towards Bobby's jaw.

Expecting the attack, Bobby's hand lashed out and caught Sam's, then painfully twisted it behind his back, forcing him to his knees. He then proceeded to pluck Ruby's knife from Sam's jacket.

As Sam went to fight his way free, his vision flashed white at the sickening pop of his shoulder being dislocated under the demon's unyielding grip. A strangled gasp was the only sound he was capable of making. Up until the demon shoved the knife through Sam's already mangled shoulder, and he _screamed. _

Just because she was a demon, it didn't mean Meg was unsympathetic towards Sam's suffering. She winced at the distinct snap of his shoulder, and then noticeably retracted when he let out that pained cry after being stabbed. As the demon possessing Sam's friend continued to mock him, she realized just how big of assholes her species really was.

"Know what makes this even better, Sam?" It taunted. It leaned in, wrongly close to Sam's ear, its voice sounding so much like Bobby's, but the words were so much crueler. "It was your brother who killed him."

Past all of the pain he was currently in, Sam choked on a disbelieving breath, in complete denial of the slightest possibility that that could be true.

"Don't matter if you believe me or not. He's dead, and you're gonna have to live with it. Well," The blade previously embedded in his shoulder was ripped out with a repulsive squelch. "Live ain't really the right word." The demon lifted the knife above its head, poised to swing it down on Sam, when Meg suddenly broke free, and took the blade for him, right through her lower abdomen.

Using their shock as a distraction, Meg shuddered as the special blade's power coursed pain through her body, and then quickly stabbed the demon possessing Bobby. Blood was slipping past her wound in a steady flow, and she felt herself dizzying buy the second, but she pressed forward, stabbing all the demons she could before the pain became too much, and she crumpled to the ground.

Determined, albeit weak, Sam swiped the knife from the floor with his left hand, and finished off the remaining demons, anger being the only thing keeping him moving.

Chest heaving with exhaustion, Sam dropped the blade to the ground, and then hurried over to where Meg lay, clutching her bleeding stomach. Very heavily bleeding stomach… Oh, no, there was too much blood.

"Meg, hey, look at me." Sam commanded as he put his hands on her cheek. She really just saved his life, and she was most likely going to lose her own in the process.

Blood trickled past Meg's lips as she forced a pained smile. "B-being the good guy sucks."

"No, no it doesn't. You're gonna be fine. We'll just get you back to the bunker, and Cas'll fix you up, okay?"

The boy was determined, so Meg decided to humour him. "Sure, Sammy."

Relief washed over Sam's face at her acceptance. "Alright, I'm gonna move you now. Just stay as still as possible, got it?"

Without the strength for much else, Meg nodded.

Sam scooped up the knife, and then wrapped his arms under Meg's body, ignoring the flare up of his bad shoulder, and lifted her up. Despite her best efforts to remain quiet, she grunted in pain as the movement jostled her wound.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." Sam comforted as he ran quickly, yet as gently as he could to the car, and he laid her down in the backseat. The tires screeched as he pressed down on the accelerator, and they hummed hurriedly across the road.

Noticing Meg was beginning to drift, Sam tried to keep her focused, and said the first thing that came to his mind. "Thanks, Meg. You-you saved my life back there."

"It-it better have be worth it." She ground out, almost playfully.

"I will, I promise." He wasn't sure what else to say, and as he opened his mouth to make something up, she spoke first.

"I r-remember."

"Remember what?" That's it, keep her talking.

"Being human… Who I used to be."

As heartbreaking as it must have been for her to think about, Sam had to keep asking questions to distract her. "Tell me."

Meg scoffed. "Trust me, Sammy, you don't want to know."

"Yes I do. Please, tell me about it."

Meg took a moment, gathering the words. "I was a blonde. A pretty one. Kinda annoyingly perky."

When she stopped, Sam pressed on. "Keep going."

"I even had a boyfriend. Smart. Cute. Nice hair. We lived together. He was planning on popping the question soon too."

"I-I'm sorry." It was hurting him just listening; he couldn't fathom how she must be feeling. But there was still quite a ways to go before they were in the clear, so kept her going. "How-how'd you die?" He waited for a minute, but she remained quiet. "Meg?" He urged.

Adverting her eyes from him, and she continued. "My boyfriend left for a few days. While he was gone, somebody broke into our apartment…"

She paused once more, and Sam forced himself to ask. "And?"

She lifted her head. "And they cut open my stomach and threw me to the ceiling so when my boyfriend got my home, my blood could drip onto his forehead."

O-oh, God, did that mean that she was… "J-Jess?"

* * *

Hope you like my little head-canon. If you hate it so much that you love it, let me know! See you guys soon.


	15. Is This What We Deserve?

Sorry for my lateness, but I was hanging out with a friend the day I actually meant to get this posted. She's actually got an account on here so if you want to check her out her name is megaotaku98. Deanmon fans, this one's for you!

* * *

For the love of God, Meg was actually trying to smile. And then she even tried to wave. "Hey."

"You-you're not… You can't be-!"

"Told ya you wouldn't want to know." Meg winced again as the continuous blood loss began making her lightheaded and dizzy.

"But- you went to Heaven!" Sam insisted frantically.

"I should have, but the demons got a little clingy during my ascent. You ever been literally dragged to Hell? Cuz it sucks."

"No, you went to Heaven! You deserved to go to Heaven!"

"Deserve doesn't mean squat when your boyfriend was Sam Winchester."

"Jess-"

"Oh don't start with that. I got those memories back, but that girl is gone."

Callous, but true. She wasn't about to baby him about it. These were the cold hard facts, emphasis on cold.

"I-I'm so sorry."

"Sammy, don't make my last few minutes be wasted by making me listen to pointless apologies. Nothing you can do now."

"Don't talk like that. You're gonna be fine. I told you that."

"You also told me that you weren't hiding anything from me when you left with Dean all those years ago and look how that turned out."

Guilt crept into Sam's stomach, along with the urge to be sick. "If-if you're really Jess, then why'd you try to kill my family? An-and you possessed me!"

"How many demons you meet that remember who they were? Yeah, none. It took me years to even remember that I was human, let alone who I actually was. But I think you'd noticed how I always favourited you. Gotta give me some credit for that."

"I… I got you turned into a demon."

Meg rolled her eyes; the hands she was pressing against her wound were losing strength, allowing more blood to run free. "No, Sammy, you just got me damned. The demons turned me. You feeling better yet?"

"I-I'll find a way to get you back."

Snapping her eyes shut at a sudden wave of pain, Meg laughed in a strained tone. "You'll have to stop me from bleeding out first." Another attempt at a laugh morphed into a coughing fit, a bad one. Blood splattered past her lips, and Meg couldn't even manage to turn her head to prevent herself from swallowing it.

No longer able to kid himself into believing that he could save her, Sam hit the brakes, and moved to the backseat to try and at least ease her passing. "I know you don't want to hear this, but… I really am sorry." He moved a stray strand of hair out of her face. He brought himself to admit the truth out loud. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you again." He exhaled shakily. "You deserve so much better… You always did."

"Y-you're such a girl." She attempted a bloody smile. "For what it's worth…" She coughed harshly as her eyes began glassing over. "I f-forgive you, Sammy." With those words finally spoken, her eyes drifted straight ahead in a literal dead stare.

Bringing his lips to Je-Meg's forehead, Sam planted a kiss at her temple as a tear slipped past. Twice now he had watched her die; twice now he had been unable to save her. But something wonderful had come out of it; she had forgiven him.

For years and years, Sam had blamed himself for Jess's death, and even if he hadn't been wrong in doing so, she had been able to forgive him, and that was almost enough knowledge to get him to forgive himself.

Well, maybe someday…

* * *

"This seems a bit excessive, don't you think, dear?" Abbadon asked sweetly. She'd awoken tied to a chair with makeshift stitches circling her once decapitated head. She could still feel the devil's trap bullet lodged into the roof of her mouth, keeping her pinned to this vessel.

"You tried to screw me over, sweetheart. I'm not playing around." Dean practically growled.

"I'm just saying, there's really no reason for all this bondage. Unless of course you're into that. Which, I could undeniably get behind."

Dean backhanded her.

Abbadon's head snapped to the side, but she laughed. "Not exactly a gentleman today, are you?"

Dean sneered. "You take my brother and try to use him for your own personal benefit, even though I've already got a claim on every damn drop of his blood. You just went ahead and assumed that you could use him. You didn't ask permission or nothing. That's why you're here."

"So, this isn't an interrogation, this is just you throwing a tantrum?"

That earned her another backhand. "This is justice, bitch. But don't worry, you're still gonna tell me everything you know about my brother."

"Let me out of these ropes, and we can have ourselves a nice, civil conversation. Demon to demon." She negotiated.

Smiling pleasantly, Dean answered, "No." And he stuck the angel blade through the meat of her shoulder. "Huh," He mused, impressed, over the sound of her pained growl. "Don't think this thing can kill you, can it?" He asked with a twist of the knife. "This is gonna make things so much easier. For me, anyways."

Replying through teeth grit together in a tight smile, Abbadon spat, "Give it your best shot, big boy." Her head went back on a shriek as Dean yanked the blade out, and then proceeded to slash it across her collarbone.

"Honey, you know where I spent the last few centuries. You really don't want me to give it my best shot. Trust me."

Abbadon scoffed. "You referring to torturing your baby brother? That wasn't you being strong. That was you breaking!" She hissed. "You couldn't take the pain anymore, so you turned on Sam. He's stronger than you in every way imaginable!" Playing the good pet like she had been planning to do clearly wasn't going to work, and if Dean was so insistent on making her the bad guy, then fine. She'd be the bad guy.

Reeling in anger, Dean gripped the flesh on her wounded shoulder, and ripped off a chunk of it with his bare hands. It was a talent he had taught himself in Hell, and perfected once more in Lucifer's Cage, and he had grown wrongly good at it. "So," He remarked far too casually as he let the handful of flesh fall to the ground with a wet splat. "Sounds like you know a lot about Sammy. How about you let me in on some of that information? Let's start with the guys he was with when I saw you in that warehouse."

Laughing borderline hysterically, Abbadon just continued to taunt him. "N-never gave me the formal introduction. Not sure I can tell you what you want to hear."

"Bull." Dean dug his fingers into the wound again, and gave it another harsh tug.

Abbadon shrieked again. "Go to hell."

"Oh, if only." He wrenched her skin once more. "You and I both know how this scene always ends. Either you start spilling your secrets, or I just keep on spilling your blood. Up to you, darling."

"I didn't hear a please."

Oddly enough, that didn't warrant another torturous pull of her flesh. "You don't deserve one either. C'mon," His demeanor had calmed. "You're a demon, I'm a demon. Can't we just get along? Help a brother out here, Abby. You know what Sammy's planning, and I'm guessing it ain't good news for either one of us. What say you we swallow our pride and get my dumbass brother out of the way? Then you and I can go at each other's throats all we want. How's that sound?"

Tempting, very tempting. Oh, what the hell. She definitely wouldn't mind being there to see Sam suffer again. He did suffer so beautifully. "Fine." She agreed in a high tone. "Here's what I know. Sammy's found himself a tablet that supposedly holds the key to ending Hell's reign here on Earth. Got himself a nice little prophet on the side to go along with it. Kid's the only one on the planet that can read it."

"Okay, that must've been the Asian. Who was the nerd in the suit?"

"That's Sam's, well, I suppose yours and Sam's grandfather. Henry Winchester. Took a little hop through time to get the key to the Men of Letter's bunker."

"Men of Letters?"

"High class book club. Think hunters without all the actual hunting. All the brain, but no brawn. Henry ended up losing his life trying to keep the key away from little old me. Unfortunately, I've got a suit that just happens to know where their hidey-hole is."

"And where's that?"

Abbadon grinned, "I know how this works. I tell you, then you leave me here to rot in this chair. Uh-uh. I show you, and we end your little brother together. Those are my terms, and no amount of pointy objects is gonna change my conditions."

"Don't tempt me." Dean warned, and it was followed by a huff. "Fine. Let's go find me a little brother to kill."

* * *

Gah, so many ways to go for the next chapter. Plot will eventually solidify itself, so I hope it won't take me as long to get the next chapter up. Sorry for the wait guys, but drop a review if y'all are enjoying. See you soon!... Hopefully.


	16. Can We Break Free?

AN: This ends my Sam/Meg tease. What would one call that? Smeg? Megam? Yeesh, maybe there's a reason they never got together. Now, I know I've been beating him up this whole story, but I just couldn't resist some more serious hurt!Sam. Enjoy guys!

* * *

Meg had died like a hunter, so she deserved to go out like one. Sam had taken the time to find somewhere proper to give her a hunter's funeral. Maybe it was a waste of time, but screw it. She always deserved so much better than what she had gotten. The least he could do was honour her death.

Gasoline splashed over her corpse, along with one or two unchecked tears. Maybe he was being a little bitch about it, but after every loss he'd suffered so far, one little breakdown seemed well warranted.

Glancing somberly at her peaceful looking body one final time, Sam dropped a match, and watched the flames consume her.

"Just like old times, huh, Sammy?"

Sam just closed his eyes. He'd forgotten about Lucifer, he had been fairly dormant recently. Well, up until now.

Ignoring the taunting Devil, Sam finished Meg's funeral, and then climbed into the car. Lucifer was already there, waiting for him in the passenger seat.

"You had the chance to save her, but you still let poor Jessie go up in flames all over again. That's gotta sting, buddy."

"Shut. Up." Sam replied through his teeth as he stared straight ahead, deliberately avoiding Lucifer's gaze.

"What's wrong, Sammy? I hurt your feelings? I've hurt a lot worse in the past, yknow."

Deciding not to respond anymore, Sam turned on the ignition, and started driving back to the bunker.

Making himself comfortable, Lucifer stretched out his legs against the dashboard, reclining obnoxiously.

Luckily, Sam had been granted a few moments of peace as he drove. Lucifer had apparently noticed Sam's relief, and decided he wasn't having any of that. He impatiently tapped Sam on the shoulder. "Let's play a game, Sammy. I spy with my little eye… Something metal."

Chains suddenly smashed through the window and constricted tightly around Sam's throat. His hands shot up to his neck as his feet slammed on the brakes. He grappled uselessly at his throat, and desperately gagged and choked for air.

"C'mon, buddy, it's no fun if you don't try to guess."

* * *

Castiel was pacing. Nervously pacing. And it didn't go unnoticed by Kevin, who was beginning to get second-hand anxiety just from watching him.

"Cas?" Kevin asked, finally causing a break in Castiel's movement. "What's wrong?"

"Sam." Castiel answered. "He hasn't called."

"He wasn't planning to, was he? He's just working a case with Meg and his friend."

"He may not have made an official plan to, but he still would have just to assure us that everything was alright."

Worry rose in both Kevin's and Castiel's stomachs. "You think he's in trouble?"

"He's a Winchester. He's always in trouble."

"What do we do?"

"Call him I suppose." Castiel pulled out his cell phone and dialed in Sam's number. It rang for a few moments before switching over to Sam's monotonous answering machine. He tried once more, and got the same result. "Now I am beginning to get very worried."

"Maybe he's just in the middle of the hunt." Kevin offered hopefully.

"I suppose that could be a possibility. I will try again later."

"I've got some good news that might take your mind off this."

"What is it?"

Looking back at the tablet, Kevin announced his small victory. "Been translating that thing like crazy, and I found something about trials that could close the gates of Hell. Forever."

An expression of astonishment washed over Castiel's face. "Forever?"

"Sounds like it. And I know what the first one is, too."

"What's the trial?"

"'One must kill a hound of Hell, and bathe in its blood.' Got any idea what that means?"

Nodding, Castiel replied, "I know exactly what it means. I only wish I could get a hold of Sam to tell him."

"Aww." A new voice cooed from the top of the stairs; a familiar voice. "Little brother's not home right now?"

Fearfully, Castiel swallowed. "Dean?"

"He's not alone either, angel." A woman strolled in beside Dean. From the true face beneath the vessel, Castiel knew that she was a demon. Most likely Abbadon. She smiled and waved flirtatiously at Kevin. "Hello again, cutie."

"You must be the prophet I've heard so much about." Dean chided. "Damn, God's got pretty crappy taste in his chosen ones. You're even worse than Chuck!"

"Dean," Castiel's voice was pleading, desperate to reach some humanity inside of Dean. "We want to help you. Please, this is not you anymore."

"Oh shut up." Unable to throw Castiel, Dean moved his finger and hurled Kevin into Castiel, sending them both to the floor. Dean saw how slowly Castiel got to his feet. "You get a wing bent or something, Cas?"

Stubbornly, Castiel remained stoic and silent.

"I'll take that as a yes." Dean grinned. "I wonder if…" Testing his theory, Dean flicked a finger, and to his delight, Castiel collided into the table, cutting open a gash across his forehead. "Oh, yeah." The grin widened. "This is gonna be fun."

* * *

Being insane sucked. It just completely and utterly sucked. Seriously, getting choked by a hallucination of the guy who had tortured you for centuries just- sucked!

Once Sam had reached the brink of unconsciousness, the chains had disappeared, and he took in grateful heaving breaths. He had barely heard Lucifer cheering for himself in a singsong tone, "I won the game! I won the game!" due to how loudly he had been panting.

Apparently satisfied with Sam's torture for the time being, Lucifer had left him alone long enough for Sam to make it back to the bunker, uninterrupted.

As he was about to open the door, he heard a large crash, followed by another, and then another. Sam hurriedly reached into his jacket pocket to grab the demon killing knife. With his mangled shoulder, he wasn't sure he would be able to make it through another fight.

But when he heard Kevin screaming in agony from inside, his motivation kicked in tenfold. He shoved open the door, and he damned himself for every wasted second, because there were his friends, being beaten and having their asses kicked by Dean and Abbadon.

Abbadon had shoved Kevin to the ground, and had already chopped off two fingers, leaving bloody stumps in their place. Sam wasn't about to let her take another.

Not caring if he attracted Dean's attention, Sam threw the demon killing knife, hitting Abbadon in the back, but it wouldn't have been fatal even if she could have been killed from the knife. She threw her head back on a pained shriek, clawing at her back to try and dislodge the blade.

Dean lifted his eyes away from Castiel, whom he was holding up by the collar; his face bruised and bloody. "Well, look who finally decided to show up!"

"Let him go, Dean." Sam ordered. He may be weaponless and injured, but he'd willingly put himself in the line of fire if it would protect his friends. Besides, Dean couldn't possibly hurt him any more that he already has. Nothing could be worse than Hell.

"You alright there, Sammy?" Dean asked with mock concern. "Your shoulder looks a little messed up. Need me to kiss it better?"

"Just stop. Dean, just stop." Sam was done. "You think that I won't do it, but if you don't leave Cas and Kevin alone, I swear to God, I _will _kill you. I'm not like Cas. I don't think there's a way to save you, so I'm not gonna try."

"Now why don't I believe you?" Dean asked doubtfully.

"Because you're a stubborn dick." Sam retorted.

Hearing his brother laugh used to bring Sam so much comfort, but right now, it was just menacing. Even though Sam was already filled to the brim with determination, a drop of fear caused his emotions to spill over. "I'm the stubborn one, huh?" Dean chuckled. "Coming from the guy who refused to step up in Hell?"

"That was back when I still had faith in you. Don't worry though," Sam swallowed, clenching his hands into fists, nails digging almost painfully into his palms. "I'm over it."

* * *

Think this is a bad cliffhanger? Then you really won't want to read the sneak preview for next chapter.

**Sneak Peek**: "Dean, look out!" Sam shoved his brother out of the way, only to be rewarded with the blade entering his own stomach.

I warned you. Won't be too long of a wait, I've already got like half the next chapter written. Loving all the followers and favourites out there, and don't be scared to drop a review! I love responding to them! See y'all soon!


	17. From Chains of Never-Ending Agony

AN: Okay, so I totally could have finished this chapter yesterday, but being the dumb blond that I am, I forgot my notebook at home, and couldn't work on it during school at all, so, sorry for the wait. Still, you are getting three updates in one week, so hopefully that makes up for it.

* * *

The first punch was thrown by Sam. He'd always been the second one to swing, but not this time. He'd suffered quietly through Lucifer, Abbadon, Dean, but no more. He was gonna fight back this time. And he was gonna fight like hell.

Clearly not expecting Sam's outburst, the hit landed directly on Dean's face. Now he was pissed. He threw a punch of his own, but his anger was making him sloppy. Sam easily dodged the blow, while landing one of his own in Dean's gut.

Okay, that was it. No longer playing fairly, Dean used his mind to throw Sam to the ground, and that's when he started fighting in earnest. Blow after blow crashed into Sam's face, snapping his head from side to side with pain filled grunts.

Seeing that Sam was in trouble, Castiel hauled himself off the floor. He attempted to pry Dean away from Sam, but Dean simply flicked his head, and sent Castiel careening into the gigantic desk, as though he was swatting away an irksome fly.

Abbadon had managed to get the knife out of her back, and it now shimmered red with her blood. She looked at it for a moment, and then lifted her head to see Dean kneeling beside Sam, delivering punch after to punch to Sam's already bleeding face. Dean was finally distracted, and she had the knife…

Silently creeping up behind him with a grin, she raised the blade.

Through nearly swollen shut and potentially blood vessel burst eyes, Sam saw the silver gleam. Unable to stop his instinct, he shouted out a warning. "Dean, look out!" Sam shoved his brother out of the way, only to be rewarded with the blade entering his own stomach. His eyes went wide in pain, and a strangled garble slipped past his wide open mouth.

"Aw." Abbadon cooed, as she released her grip on the knife. "You do care."

Dean was obviously not all that grateful for Sam's sacrifice, and he ripped the blade from Sam's gut, oblivious to his pained cry. He quickly spun around, and forced the blade into Abbadon's heart.

Abbadon growled in irritation, but she didn't go down as Dean had been hoping she would. She hissed at him through gritted teeth. "L-looks like somebody missed the memo." Her fingers gripped the hilt of the knife, one digit at a time. "This little push-pin won't kill me. You on the other hand…" She slowly pulled the blade from her stomach, and raised the knife again, only to be knocked over by Castiel. Weak as he was, Castiel started attacking Abbadon.

Up until he heard Sam yelp, that is. He turned his head to see Dean steadily pressing his foot down on Sam's stomach, slowly coaxing more blood out of the wound. Castiel put his attention back on Dean, and with dread for Sam's safety fueling him, he pulled Dean off of Sam.

No longer wishing to put herself in the line of fire, Abbadon got up, clutching her wound, and scurried up the stairs in plight.

Despite being down two fingers, Kevin had been able to get back on his feet. He had even succeeded in reaching a flash of holy water, and before he could talk himself out of it, he flung its contents at Dean.

That acidic, all too familiar substance sizzled against Dean's skin, and he shriveled away from Cas.

Before Dean had to chance to stand back up, Castiel put most of his energy into a punch that hit Dean in the back of the head, and he thankfully and finally fell unconscious.

"C-Castiel," Kevin's voice was shaking even more than his shoulders. "There's a lot of blood." He was at Sam's side, trying to apply pressure to the wound, but blood just continuously ran down his hands in torrents.

"Move aside." Castiel commanded, and there was actually a slight tremble in his voice as well. Who knows what this may do to him, but Sam couldn't die now. Not when they're so close to finally stopping Hell. He placed his hands on Sam's stomach.

"C-Cas," Sam stuttered. "D-don't."

Ignoring the plea, Castiel closed his eyes and began healing Sam. He'd been recovering from the loss of Purgatory's souls for a while now, but it still hadn't been long enough, and Castiel knew it. He felt his grace fading as it worked to fix Sam's wounds in both his gut, and his shoulder. He wasn't even sure how that one had occurred, but right now, he didn't care. He healed and healed until his vision turned blurry, forcing him to finally step away from Sam.

Sam groaned as he felt the wounds washing away like chalk drawings in the rain. Unfortunately, the shoulder bone didn't go back into place. He watched Castiel stumble, and then begin to fall backward. Sam helped steady him, and although he was grateful, he couldn't help but give Cas a small reprimand. "You shouldn't have done that."

"I also shouldn't have worked with Crowley and consumed the souls or Purgatory. This will at least rest well with my conscience." Was Castiel's reply. His eyes drifted over to Kevin, who was clutching at his still bleeding and partially fingerless hand. "L-let me help Kevin."

"No." To Sam and Castiel's surprise, Kevin was the one who denied the assistance. "You may not have realised this, but I've been known to pick things up on occasion. You need to rest, Cas."

"I'm f-" Castiel tried to insist, but Sam cut him off.

"You're not. If you want to help, then help me get Dean into the dungeon before he wakes up."

Taking ahold of his unconscious brother, Sam started dragging Dean off, soon aided by Castiel. If he was being honest, Cas really wasn't doing that much to lighten the load, no pun intended, due to how weak he just made himself become.

They'd finally reached the dungeon, and began strapping Dean down. The chair in the centre of the room was littered with Devil's traps, assuring the fact that Dean would be going nowhere anytime soon.

Damn, their lives were screwed up.

* * *

Awakening with a groan, Dean immediately felt the coolness of chains wrapped around his wrists. He tried to just force them off with his demon powers, only to discover that the cuffs were warded. He was well and truly stuck.

Well… for now.

Cold was all Dean was at the moment. The room itself was cold, the chains encircling his arms and legs were cold, and to top it all off with a half-assed cliché, his heart was cold.

There was a creak, and the walls started to open up, and- great- _Sam _stepped through. Bastard didn't even have the decency to die after he'd given Dean something to look forward to watching. Honestly, the guy got stabbed in front of him and still refuses to go down. Stubborn prick…

"Guess Cas fixed you up then, huh?" Dean remarked snidely.

No warning, no signs of foreboding, no pretense whatsoever, and Sam threw his fist into Dean's face. Hard. Dean even spit a tooth out, but Sam was completely unfazed. "That was for Hell."

Then he calmly turned around, and left Dean in the cold once again.

So, Sam's angry. Dean could use that. He could most certainly use that…

* * *

"What were you doing in there, Sam?" Castiel asked nervously when he saw Sam returning from the dungeon.

"He's fine, Cas. I may be pissed at him, but that doesn't make me an idiot."

"I heard what you told him before the fight. You said you would have no problem killing him."

"And I wouldn't. But I'm not gonna do it behind your back. Just lay off."

"You're upset. I can see that, but you must not take your anger out on him…" He paused. "Sam?"

"What?" Sam snapped.

"Where's Meg?"

The scowl on Sam's face was replaced with an expression of grief. "Where do you think, Cas?" The words were harsh, but the tone was too full of remorse for there to be any true menace behind them.

"What happened?"

All the losses Sam had endured could be denied no longer. "It was a trap." He laughed shakily, clearly finding no actual joy in what he was forced to admit. "Bobby's dead too. Some demon was possessing him, just to draw me in. Thing even said Dean was the one who killed Bobby, I tell you that?" His sorrow was quickly morphing into hysterical, broken rage. "Oh, and did I mention that Meg's apparently Jess? Yeah, I got her damned to Hell just because I loved her."

Castiel's eyes suddenly dropped to the ground, not saying a word. Why wouldn't he- No… No. Freaking. Way.

"Cas…" Sam dared himself to ask, just begging his thoughts to be betraying him. "Did you know?" The second of silence was all Sam needed to hear. At first, he was more astounded and hurt, rather than angry. "Unbelievable."

"I-I thought the truth would hurt you too much, Sam."

"Oh, screw you, Cas! It wasn't your decision to determine how much I could handle. I had a right to know!"

"Would it have made a difference?"

"Of course it would have!"

"Even if that meant you would have died in her place?"

"Yes!"

Castiel sighed. Sam was a Winchester. That meant he wouldn't be able to argue any longer, not without wasting time that they didn't have. All he could do was try to distract Sam with some good news. "Kevin's found something on the tablet."

"_Really? Oh, that's wonderful! I guess that just makes everything okay now, Cas! Let's untie Dean and all go out for ice cream and strippers!" _"What'd he find?"

Relieved Sam had let the matter rest for a while, he explained. "There are trials that may be completed, and if they are done successfully, the Gates of Hell will be closed forever."

Pissed, hurt, slightly betrayed, but damn, that was still some pretty good news. "We know what they are yet?"

"The first trial is to kill a hound of hell, and bathe in its blood."

"Well great, that's gonna be easy."

"I can see hellhounds, Sam. I will be able to help you."

"Oh, you still want to help me?" Sam asked doubtfully, and rather coldly.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Your recent track record is saying otherwise."

"Sam, I've made mistakes, I know that, and I am trying to redeem myself."

Huffing, Sam reluctantly accepted. "Fine." He could at least understand where Cas was coming from with the whole redemption concept. But that didn't mean he was going to go any easier on him for it. "Just- don't get in my way."

* * *

Again, sorry for turning Sam into a d-bag towards Castiel again, but he's just so easy to blame sometimes with his little baby blue eyes. Okay focus, Shoe! So I forced myself to add another page to this chapter for y'all's patience. Reviews are a great help and motivation for my muse so drop one, or more, I wouldn't complain, if y'all got time, and I shall see you soon! Unless spring break puts my muse on snooze… Let's hope not.


	18. Are They Themselves to Blame?

AN: 50 reviews! Like, holy crap, thank you all so much! All you favourites and followers, you are just fantastic! Thanks so much, guys! Okay, if you don't like Kevin, you may not enjoy this chapter. Sam and Castiel are here very briefly because you already know what happens on the hellhound hunt. I didn't want to write scenes that everybody already knows, so I decided Kevin deserved his own little adventure! Made this chapter nice and long for y'all's patience.

* * *

"You're sure you're gonna be okay here by yourself, Kevin?" Sam asked with concern.

"You tattooed me up, there's warding everywhere in this place. If anything shows up, I'll just hide in my room until it passes." Kevin answered.

"And whatever you do-"

"No going in the dungeon. I know, Sam."

"You got our cell numbers in case anything goes wrong, right?"

"I'm not a kindergartner going to my first day of school. I can take care of myself. You taught me how to draw devil's traps, and like twenty different exorcisms. I'll be fine." He looked over at Cas, who looked significantly more meek than usual. Kevin lowered his voice so as not to attract the angel's attention. "I know he messed up, but go easy on him, okay? He is trying to make it better, Sam."

Knowingly, Sam nodded. "I know." He sighed. "I'll try, Kev."

"So, you guys know where you're going then?"

"Too much luck happened about ten years ago in Shoshone, Idaho, so we're thinking there's a potential deal coming due soon. Just gotta hope I suppose. You keep translating, okay?"

Kevin tried to laugh. "Not like I have much else to do around here."

When Sam and Castiel finally left, Kevin realised just how lonely he truly was right then. He hadn't had the chance to say goodbye to his girlfriend, hell, he hadn't even told his mother where he was!

What exactly would he tell her though? 'Hey, Mom. Met an angel and the vessel of Satan whose brother is a demon. And by the way, I'm a prophet of God. How have you been?'

The fact that he was going to have to spend the rest of his life keeping away from the people he loved had been well drilled into his head by now.

Then again… What's stopping him? Sam and Cas were gone, and Dean wasn't going anywhere. His mother had the right to know where he was. She was his mother for God's sake!

Grabbing his backpack that contained everything he had managed to grab in a pinch, he headed over to the garage that had about two dozen cars inside of it. Selecting the least humiliating old timey car, he set off to see his mother.

He set off for _home._

* * *

Dead. Kevin was so dead. Whether it was his mother or Sam, someone was going to kill him. It wasn't until he had reached his house's door that he realised just how reckless and stupid he was being. But what did you expect? He was only human. A chosen human, but a human nonetheless.

Hesitating just a few moments longer, Kevin braced himself and knocked on the door. His mother was never one to answer unless she'd been expecting someone, so he made sure she knew who it was.

"Mom?" He paused. "Mom, it's me. It's-"

The sentence was interrupted as the door swung open, and those familiar eyes brightened the second they fell on him. "Kevin?"

Hearing your mother cry was never fun or easy, so when Kevin heard the quiver in her voice, all the good he'd done for Sam and Cas suddenly seemed so insignificant. Who cared about the sake of humankind when you'd made your own mother cry?

Prepared for an eternal reprimand, or maybe even a slap, Kevin was caught completely off guard when his mother's arms wrapped around him in a tight hug. Relieved and ecstatic to see her safe, Kevin gratefully hugged back. But he wasn't all that surprised when her hand smacked the back of his head.

"Where were you?! I get calls from Channing and all your friends saying that you haven't been at school! Why haven't you been at school?"

"Mom… I gotta tell you something. A lot of somethings actually."

The anger washed right off her face, and was replaced with deep concern in a second. Those weren't words a mother even wanted to hear her child say, especially not that somberly. "What's wrong, Kevin?"

Deeply inhaling and exhaling, Kevin fumbled with the words. "This is gonna take a while…"

* * *

People were stupid. So. Freaking. Stupid! By the time Sam and Castiel had finished investigating Cassity Farms, they'd learned that not just one, but three different family members had sold their soul for various reasons. Now Sam and Cas were going to have to save their dumbasses from hellhound.

Freaking fantastic.

Even better, they'd already lost two people, and it was only a matter of time before the hellhound sunk its paws into someone else.

What was unexpected was that it wasn't a family member that was next. Apparently Ellie, the girl who took care of the horses, and who had also very non-discreetly asked Sam to have sex with her, had also sold her soul. Maybe she'd be the one that could finally be saved.

"Can you see it, Cas?" Sam asked, referring to the hellhound, as he nervously paced throughout the barn.

"It's waiting right now. It will come soon enough, do not worry."

Sam scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Not like I'm about to fight the same animal that killed my brother nearly four years ago that I can't even see or anything. I've got nothing to worry about at all." His sarcasm wasn't quite as accusing and purposefully hurtful that time. Sam's nerves just sort of made him forget that he was supposed to be mad at Cas.

"You are a great hunter, Sam. You can do this. I believe in you."

Mad, nervous, or whatever the hell he was at the moment, wasn't blinding enough that Sam was unable to accept a compliment. "Thanks, Cas."

A few moments passed before Castiel couldn't contain his concern any longer. "What do you think will happen once the trials are over?"

"I think the gates of Hell will be closed."

"To you, Sam. What will you do?"

Honestly, that thought hadn't occurred to Sam yet. He could- he could be _free. _No demons, no apocalypses, maybe a few monsters here and there, but there were other hunters. Sam could have a life. "I don't really know, Cas. I haven't had a chance to think about being away from all this crap in years. Not that it worked out last time anyway, but."

"So would you give up hunting?"

"I-I really want to say that I would but… Just because I stop hunting monsters doesn't mean they'd stop hunting me. Maybe I'll never really be able to have a family."

"Would you try to?"

As Sam opened his mouth to answer, the door suddenly swung open with a feral growl erupting from seemingly nowhere. _Hellhound._

"It's here." Castiel warned.

"Yeah, think I got that." Sam said as he tightly clutched the angel blade. The grain and sawdust at the floor of the barn tumbled away as visible breath from the hellhound shoved them away. Four terrifyingly large paw prints appeared like phantom footprints in the sand on the beach. Its menacing growl was disturbingly familiar, and Sam felt all too well acquainted with it.

"Come and get me, you little bitch." He challenged.

Seeming to accept the taunt, the prints started moving forward at an insanely fast pace before plowing into Sam, pinning him to the ground. He kept his tight hold on the angel blade, even when he heard its jaw snapping above him; unceasingly barking and snarling.

Grabbing what he could only assume was its neck, Sam shoved the blade through what he hoped was the thing's stomach, and pulled the blade forward. He felt the resistance of the tough muscle and thick bones, but he pressed on until he heard its dying whimper.

Thick, black goo, which he presumed to be the hellhound's blood, was drenching his clothes, sloshing with every panting breath he took.

"Sam," Cas rushed over. "Are you alright?"

Slowly getting to his feet, Sam looked himself over, relieved that this hunt had left him on top. "For once, I think I'm good, Cas."

They made their way back to Ellie's cabin to tell her the good news, and after she left, Sam pulled out the slip of paper that held the spell he would need to recite after he completed each trial.

"Are you sure you wish to do this, Sam?" Castiel asked one last time. "We still don't know what this could do to you."

Sam just nodded. "Kah-Nuh-Ahm-Dahr."

A sudden burning started to pulse through Sam's arms, dull at first, but it was very quickly ramping up by the second. The pain was eventually so overwhelming and unexpected that Sam fell on his knees. He lifted his head only to see his veins. His arms were freaking glowing!

"Sam?" Castiel asked worriedly. "What's happening?"

The burning slowly faded away, as did the oddly frightening radiating glow. Sam got back to his feet; his determination fire lit anew. "I'm good." He replied. And he meant it. He wasn't just okay this time. He was actually good. "I can do this."

* * *

"Kevin, are you on drugs?"

"Mom, listen, I know it's crazy, but it's true. That's why I've been gone. Hell, it's why I'm missing two fingers!"

Somehow that fact had slipped Mrs. Tran's notice, and her eyes widened to the brink of falling out. Her fair skin began to tint green. "Please, Kevin, just tell me what's going on."

"I am. What I've gotten into, it's dangerous. I shouldn't even be here, but I couldn't just let you worry about me for the rest of your life."

"Then come home." She pleaded.

Closing his eyes and sighing, Kevin shook his head. "I can't. You have to trust me, okay?"

A mother longs for the day when her child is finally ready to take on the world, but when the child thinks the world is full of demons and prophets, that's just a little too much to ask. "No. This isn't like you, Kevin. I can't let you go. We'll find you some help, okay?"

"I don't need help!" Kevin argued.

"Then we'll take you out of school for a while. Is that what you want?"

"What I want is to tell you I love you, Mom. But then I need to get back. You're not safe around me."

"Damn right she's not."

Oh crap. Kevin snapped his head around to see three strangers in his living room, all sporting the same black eyes.

"K-Kevin?" Mrs. Tran stuttered.

"Mom, get to your room!" Kevin commanded.

"But-"

"Go!" Thank God Kevin was smart. He was hoping he wouldn't have had to use it, but thankful that he brought it, he pulled out a flask of holy water and threw it at the demons.

Acting quickly as the demons writhed in pain, Kevin ran to the kitchen and grabbed as much salt as he could get his hands on. He hurried past the hoard, and ran into his mother's room, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Kevin, what's happening?"

"Remember those demons I mentioned?" He asked as he laid down a salt barrier at the door. "Well, there they are."

"W-What are you doing?"

"Salt repels demons. And ghosts. Have I mentioned ghosts yet?"

One of the demons' fists pounded the door angrily, startling Kevin, and causing him to jump back from it.

"Come with us quietly and we won't make you watch us peel off all your mother's skin." One of the demons threatened.

Kevin was too busy rifling through his mother's desk to respond. Finally coming across a Sharpie, he dropped to the ground and started drawing on the wooden floor.

"What are-"

Kevin silenced her with a finger to his lips. "Do you trust me, Mom?"

Pausing for just a moment, Mrs. Tran calmed herself enough to nod. Kevin smiled in silent gratitude for her acceptance.

When he finished his drawing, it looked like one of those devil worshipping symbols Mrs. Tran had learned to be afraid of since birth. "What's-"

"Trust, remember?" Kevin reminded her as he placed his hand on the doorknob. He was about to let them in, and Mrs. Tran was baffled as to why. She was about to protest once more, but there comes a time in every mother's life when she has to step back and let her child make their own decisions. She just hoped the decision wouldn't get both of them killed.

Kevin swung the door open, and the demons came rushing in like the meat-heads they were. Mrs. Tran couldn't help but cower as they barreled towards her, up until they reached the edge of Kevin's symbol. The demons angry eyes went scared and knowing in an instant. They became even more panicked when Kevin began spouting out in a different language; Latin by the sound of it. Was her son actually exorcising demons right in front of her?

As the exorcism drifted to its apparent close, black smoke began flowing from the mouths of the people the demons were possessing. The smoke sunk through the floor; supposedly back to the pits of Hell where they deserved to rot.

Several seconds of all too calm silence passed before Kevin spoke. "You okay, Mom?"

Mrs. Tran swallowed. "L-looks like you weren't kidding."

Grateful that she wasn't losing it, Kevin laughed. "Wish I was." He had to take another moment before he confessed the truth once more. "I shouldn't have come here, Mom. I put you in danger, and I'm sorry."

Sure. She may have almost been killed by demons, but it was still Kevin she was truly worried about. She pulled him into another tight hug, knowing that a goodbye was soon to follow his apology. "Please don't go back, Kevin."

"I have to. The guys I'm helping are working on a way to stop things like this from ever happening again. They need me."

Sniffling, accepting she was going to have to let him go, Mrs. Tran nodded. "I love you, Kevin."

Hugging a little bit tighter, Kevin responded, "I love you too."

Saying their final goodbyes was so much worse from what Kevin had originally thought. As he hopped into the car, he forced himself not to turn back and look at his mother again; because he wasn't sure he'd be able to drive away after that.

When he got back to the bunker, he was relieved to see that Sam and Cas hadn't beaten him back. He had himself a quick shower, and then got back to work on the tablet,

Not too much later, the bunker doors opened, and in came Sam and Castiel. Sam's shirt was covered in black goo, which Kevin assumed was hellhound blood. "So," Sam asked. "Anything happen while we were gone?"

"_Saw my mom, got ambushed by demons, and sent them back to Hell." _Kevin shrugged. "Nah, not really."

* * *

AN: I think that last line was literally the only relatively funny thing I've said this entire story. But honestly, I'm okay with that. So, hope you guys enjoyed my little side adventure, and hopefully my muse will decide to focus on the bigger and better things real soon. I promise, I know how this story ends, I just gotta get there. Drop a review if y'all are enjoying, and I'll see you soon!


	19. The Misery, The Pain

AN: This chapter's a little short, but the next one is nearly finished, so there won't be a super long wait. And this chapter was written over a long range of time, so fair warning, it's kind of disjointed. Sorry about that, but hey, at least I'm updating!

* * *

"There were times I would have died for you, Dean." Castiel told him truthfully.

"Aw, you're breaking my heart, Cas." Dean mocked as he tugged on the chains once more. "I got no problem letting you die for me now if that makes you feel better."

"Just stop." Castiel pleaded softly. "I've saved you from this before; I can do it again."

"Oh, because you're just that strong?"

"No, because _you _are. You'd resisted this side of yourself for thirty years last time, and when you were free again, the guilt consumed you, because you knew what you did was wrong."

"Well pardon me for getting my conscience tortured out of me this time around."

"You are better than this, Dean. I believe that you have to strength to overcome this. And you should too."

"I know how strong I am, Cas. In fact, that's the problem. I know I'm strong enough to rip out your little heart, and I'm looking forward to it."

Hiding the hurt that the threat caused him, Castiel hardened his eyes. "You will have to get out of that chair first."

Mimicking Castiel's detached look, Dean narrowed his eyes as well. "That's the plan, angel."

No longer willing to listen to Dean's incessant denial and empty threats, Castiel turned to leave.

"Sam's gonna die!" Dean called after him. "It might not be me that kills him, but without me, he's dead. I hunted for years on my own. Sammy's never had to do it without me, and he certainly ain't gonna be able to take on Hell by himself. He ain't gonna last."

"He has me." Castiel argued, still facing away from Dean.

Dean couldn't help but laugh at that. "And you've already let him get nabbed once, and that was before you lost all your angel juice. What good are you to him? Won't be long now before he leaves your ass in the dirt."

"This is getting you nowhere. Nothing you say will get you free."

"What if I said 'pretty please?'?"

"Goodbye, Dean." With that said, Castiel left the dungeon.

Huffing, Dean fell back against his devil's trapped chair. So, Cas still had faith in him, God knows why, but who cares? With Cas and Sam debating Dean's fate, he could very easily get them on one another's bad sides. Sam would be especially easy to play. He was his brother after all. Dean knew exactly which buttons he'd have to push.

Now he just had to play his cards right…

* * *

"I told you, Cas," Sam couldn't help but rub it in. "It's not Dean in there anymore. Nothing you say to him is gonna bring him back.'

"I had to try something, Sam. It is better than leaving him there to rot."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"No, you're hoping that if we leave him in there long enough that he will give you a reason to kill him."

"That's not true!" Sam objected.

"Then why aren't you looking for a solution? A way to cure him?"

Sam motioned to the tablet Kevin was currently translating. "Been a little busy, in case you haven't noticed."

"Have you even thought about the long term effects of completing the trials?"

"Does it matter? Closing the gates trumps your concerns for me."

"And what about Dean? Locking him up may lead to negative effects for him too. It isn't just you at risk here, Sam."

"Guys?" Kevin piped up meekly, breaking the scarily intense tension.

Forcing himself to let go of his anger for a minute, Sam asked, "What'd you find, Kev?"

"Second trial." He left a pause, waiting for another question, but it didn't come. "'An innocent soul must be rescued from Hell, and delivered unto Heaven."

"Okay, how we gonna find an innocent soul in Hell?'

"They are more abundant than you might think." Castiel explained. "Those who sell their souls for loved ones, for example. You of all people, San, should be able to think of someone who does not deserve to be in Hell."

"You wanna be more specific?"

"Your father. Don't you recall all those years ago when he sold his soul to save Dean?"

"He-he's still in Hell? But- he saved me and Dean when the Devil's Gate opened in Cold Oak. He got out." Sam reasoned.

"Perhaps he managed to escape long enough to help you and Dean, but he was returned to Hell afterwards. That is why Lucifer was able to offer to bring him back. He has control over the souls of Hell, so if your family was in Heaven, he would not have had the power."

An epiphany sparked in Sam's mind at Cas's relay of information. "That's how he showed up as Jess isn't it?" Sam sighed. "Why couldn't I see that before?"

"I'm sorry, Sam." Kevin comforted.

"Wait," Sam thought out loud. "If he could bring back my whole family, does that mean my mom's in Hell too?"

"No, Mary is in Heaven." Castiel replied. "Remember when you and Dean were shot by hunters, and in Heaven Zachariah used a visage of her against you and Dean? Even though she is in Heaven, other angels like Zachariah would have been willing to hand her over had you said yes."

"So, I free my dad, and he'll get to be with my mom again?"

"I believe that is what will happen, yes."

"Hang on," Kevin interjected. "You're seriously gonna march into Hell, and pull someone out?"

"It's been done before." Sam told him as his eyes drifted over to Cas.

"You are not an angel, Sam." Castiel pointed out. "How do you plan on getting to Hell?"

"Well, I doubt any demons are gonna try to help me out on this one. Any angels you know of that could get us downstairs?"

"After siding with Crowley," Castiel confessed shamefully. "I lost many followers, and there are too many risks with potentially trusting the wrong people."

"Well okay, that's a no, then. Tablet say anything about getting into Hell?"

"No. Not that I see now anyways." Kevin relayed.

"Cas, any ideas? What all can get in and out of Hell?"

"Well, angels, demons-"

"Aside from the obvious."

Castiel's face scrunched as he pondered the possibilities, then it suddenly shot up as he was struck with an idea. "Reapers."

"Reapers?" Sam repeated.

"I've heard talk of rogue reapers letting souls into Heaven, and Hell. The angels are not very happy about it. I imagine that demons would not be either."

"So now I've got to worry about both sides handing my ass to me?"

"Only if you are caught."

"Yeah, cuz no one's gonna notice two Winchesters trying to escape Hell.'

"It will be difficult, but that is the point. It's a trial, Sam. What were you expecting?"

"Alright. Guess we're tracking down a rouge reaper then."

Even with limited grace, Castiel and Sam had managed to locate a reaper that could take Sam to Hell. Sam had convinced Cas that he didn't need to go along with him, mostly because it would be a wasted trip for him. The reapers could take humans across, not angels.

Kill a hellhound? Sure. Journey into Hell? Okay. Rescue his dead father from the flames whilst hoping not to draw demons' attention? Why not? But claim that you can take Sam Winchester to Hell, but end up dropping his ass in Purgatory? Hell. No.

"This isn't what I paid for, Ajay." Sam protested as he took in his surroundings. "I booked the Hell tour."

"Woah, detach, Winchester. This is Hell adjacent. Just follow the stream to where three trees meet as one. Where they meet, there are rocks. In between the rocks is the portal."

"A portal?" He echoed.

"A back door to Hell." Ajay clarified with a grin. "Trust me, it'll work."

Bitchface activated.

"I will be back here in precisely twenty-four hours." Ajay continued. "Be here." And with that, he was gone.

Amongst the numerous trees and overall somewhat tranquil environment, Sam couldn't help but know that he wasn't alone.

Unsheathing Ruby's knife, San moved forward with great caution. The vast and seemingly endless forest made Sam feel all the more insignificant and vulnerable. He felt that invisible eyes were everywhere, and staring at him, only to plot his demise.

Just to further advance his unease, he heard a branch snapping behind him, and as cliché of a horror movie moment as it was, Sam didn't let the noise go over his head.

Apparently, he hadn't turned around quickly enough, and soon felt a cold hand twist his hair, and turn him so that he stared into the eyes of someone he was hoping he'd never see again.

"Hey there, Sammy.'

Sam steeled himself, the old, but not forgotten name slipped angrily past his tongue. "Gordon."

* * *

Gotta love cliffhangers. Don't worry about Sammy too much, I'm not gonna pointlessly whump him again next chapter. Speaking of next chapter…

**Sneak Peek: **"Eyes drifting over to his savior, Sam was slightly startled when he saw the man's teeth. Vampire.

'Evening, brother.'"

Let me know how you're feeling out there! I can't stress enough how motivating and uplifting a review can be. Your voice matters! See y'all soon!


	20. Didn't We Let Go?

AN: What's funny about this chapter, is that the day I started writing about the return of a certain character, I later learned that they actually would be returning to the show next Wednesday night! You heard me, Benny is back! Also, **blood/gore warning at the end of the chapter!**

* * *

"What brings you here, Sammy?" Gordon asked snidely, maintaining his steel grip on Sam's hair. "This is where the monsters go. Suppose it fits that you'd end up here."

"I'm here as a hunter." Sam hissed through his teeth. "Closing the gates of Hell. That sound like a good enough reason to let me go?"

The hand tightened, causing Sam to wince. "You know what I love about this place?" Gordon mused aloud, ignoring the logic Sam had attempted to offer. "It's my second chance. I'm a hunter again, and know what?" He nodded contently as he pulled out a monstrous looking blade. "Feels good, Sammy. Real good. And now, I just got myself another second chance."

Through his teeth, Sam growled, "To what?"

"Finishing what I started a long time ago." He opened his mouth, baring his teeth as his set of fangs descended from his gums.

Intensifying his struggles, Sam's hands flew up to Gordon's head to hinder the seemingly inevitable bite, his bad shoulder flaring up at the abrupt movement. He felt his hair get twisted again, forcing him to expose the vulnerable and sensitive flesh of his neck. The fangs grazed across his skin, and as Sam fought to retrieve Ruby's knife, the fangs and the hand in his hair disappeared.

Shocked, yet grateful, at the sudden absence, Sam dropped to his knees, catching himself with his hands. He sucked in air greedily, and then lifted his head only to see Gordon's suddenly get lobbed off with a squish, and then a thud.

Eyes drifting over to his saviour, Sam was slightly startled when he saw the man's teeth; vampire.

"Evenin' brother." It greeted.

Sam's face remained expressionless. "Why'd you save me? Wanted me all for yourself?"

"Not quite." The vampire smiled, its fangs still eerily bared.

"Then what do you want?"

The man- monster- began to walk in a circle, and Sam did the same to stay on his toes. "You're a human. That ain't exactly the case for me, as you can see."

"Never would've guessed." Sam remarked sarcastically.

"See, I happen to know the way outta here. Unfortunately, my kind ain't exactly supposed to pass through. Yours is."

"Well thanks for the offer, but I already know how to get out."

"Judgin' by what I just saw, making it through here alive is gonna be a problem for you. I can tell by that little toothpick you got there," He motioned to Ruby's blade. "You ain't gonna last long without some help."

"I don't need it from you."

"Fangs throwin' you off a bit? I don't feed off the unwilling. Strictly donated blood." He chuckled. "Not exactly donated to me, but least I don't hurt anybody that way."

"Why should I believe you?"

"You're alive, ain't ya? If I weren't what I said I was, you really think you'd still be breathin'?"

It would be pretty hypocritical of Sam to still be mad at Cas for working with Crowley if he were to do the same with a vampire. Then again… Cas doesn't have to know. And Sam isn't stupid; he'd be able to take care of this vampire should it step out of line. "You got a name?"

The vampire smiled. "Benny."

"Sam." He stated as he scooped down, picking up Gordon's rather impressive weapon, making sure Benny saw him doing so. "I'm making a pit stop before we even think about getting out."

"Where exactly you plannin' on stoppin'? We ain't got a gift shop."

"Hell." Sam answered bluntly.

Impressed, Benny whistled. "Big fish you're fryin' there, little man."

"I don't need your opinion; I just need you to watch my back. There's a lotta things that are probably here because of me. And I don't think they'll be all that happy to see me."

"Kinda figured when you're here for three seconds, and you're already close and personal with your friend there." He nudged Gordon's headless corpse. "I ain't got a real good name 'round here either. We could make a good team, brother."

A vampire and a hunter strolling through Purgatory to find an entrance to Hell. Why not?

Each step closer to Hell's portal was another decapitated vampire, or monster; there were even appearances from those Leviathan thins Cas had talked about. They were freaking annoying, along with slightly menacing. Those forked tongues reminded Sam of Lucifer, whom had been dormant since the first trial had been completed.

Exhaustion mixed with irritation, mostly irritation, was beginning to take its toll on Sam. He was tired, but something about Purgatory was so rejuvenating… _Pure. _But dammit, he just really wanted to get this over with.

For once, it seemed that the universe had heard his plea, and actually listened to it. Just a few feet ahead was a radiating, almost beacon like glow in between a few rocks.

"That the door?" Benny asked.

"Guess so. Here," Sam handed Benny Gordon's weapon, now giving him twice to potential fire power. He was probably going to get more use out of it than Sam. "Keep yourself safe. Not sure how long I'll be gone. You better be alive when I get back." The words weren't harsh, in fact, they were almost hopeful. Sure, it felt pretty damn weird to work with a vampire, but Benny had proved his worth. He'd had Sam's back every step of the way so far, and he'd well-earned Sam's trust, and now his concern.

"Been here a while now. I think I can make it without you for a little longer. Have fun in Hell, Sam."

Sam let out a little laugh. "Thanks, Benny. See you soon."

'I hope' was left unspoken, even though they were both thinking it. Purgatory really was a dog eats dog kind of place, just replace dog with Leviathan or vampire. Hell was going to be so much worse though. Demons would be crawling about, so Sam would not only have to somehow track his father down, but he'd have to do it without drawing attention. God be with him, if He even still cares.

Giving one last look back, Sam stepped through the portal. The cleansing atmosphere of Purgatory was instantly replaced with the sounds of pained cries and pleas. The air was hot, sickening, and far, _far,_ too familiar. It sounded like Hell; it felt like Hell; it even smelled like Hell. Sam nearly gagged upon arrival, but he favoured bringing his sleeve up to his nose to shield it from the odor.

How in the literal hell was he supposed to not get lost? Sure, Sam's a hunter, but Hell looked like a labyrinth more intricate than those from Greek mythology. Unfortunately, Sam didn't have Pan to help guide him away from the Minotaur.

Actually, maybe thinking along the lines of myths and fables could help him find his way out. He could pull a Hansel and Grete; he'd leave a trail of breadcrumbs. Seeing how he was fresh out of bread, he pulled out the demon killing knife, and sliced across his palm. He let his blood drip onto the floor, marking his starting point. This was Hell after all; no one would notice a few drops of blood on the ground.

Turn after turn, dead end after dead end, unending tormented screams filled every passing second, and blood drop after blood drop plinked onto the ground, gradually dragging Sam towards lightheadedness.

Fear was his fuel. If he fell unconscious, he could get captured. If he got captured, his dad would continue to rot in Hell. The trials wouldn't be completed' and worst of all, Sam would never see his brother again.

Wait, did Sam really just think that? It wasn't until the words 'worst of all' crossed his mind that he truly realised how much he still cared about Dean. Honestly, Sam wasn't cold towards Dean; he was afraid. Dean had always been on Sam's side, and Sam had seen Dean angry plenty of times, and very rarely was he on the receiving end of his rage. But when he was, all Sam could bring himself to do was suffer through it quietly. The only time he'd really stood up to him was when he had been on demon blood, and he regretted it every day. He would miss Dean if he died. Sam needed him back at his side; Sam wanted his brother back.

"Dean!" A voice yelled.

Hang on- What?

"Sammy!"

It was barely a whisper that passed Sam's lips. "Dad?"

Not wasting another second, Sam ran towards the cry, neglecting to let his blood drop, but he was in too much of a panic to care. The screams grew louder, and then Sam saw him. John Winchester; Sam's father, and ex-marine, one of the world's greatest hunters, and he was- God, he looked broken.

The agony of the rack is impossible to forget. The vulnerability, the hopelessness, don't even get Sam started on the actual pain. The memories of himself being there were as comprehensible as the art of breathing to him, but he'd never fathomed someone else being on it, certainly not his own father.

Some demon was currently dragging a gruesome looking blade through John's abdomen; a stream of white intestines spilling loose with a splat, although it was difficult to hear over John's scream.

"Hey!" Sam called over to the demon.

It turned around slowly, the unmistakable black eyes glinting with a sardonic gleam. But it wasn't just the demon's eyes that were familiar. The face, the hair, the clothes. The demon sure knew how to torture, because it wasn't just using any old face.

It was using Dean's.

* * *

I meant to save John this chapter, but that ending just snuck in like a little SOB. Sorry. Except not really. May have to throw in some Sam whump next chapter. Eh, screw maybe, I'm throwing in some Sam whump next chapter. Hope y'all are still enjoying, and drop a review to let me know what you think if ya got time! Thanks everybody!


	21. Allowed it, Let it Grow

AN: I finished this chapter on the hand written copy yesterday, but I did not get home until like 8:30 last night, and we all know what happens at 9:00. Speaking of last night's episode, *SPOILERSSSSSSSS* FREAKING CAS WITH HIS BROKEN WINGS CAN SOMEBODY KILL ME? OH GOSH THAT WAS HOT! Okay, on to the story.

* * *

Of freaking course it was Dean. It wasn't enough for demon Dean to plague him topside, no; he obviously had to mock Sam's failure down here too.

Cruelly pulling the knife from John's gut with agonizing precision, the demon smiled at Sam. "Well. Fancy seeing you here, little brother."

"You're not my brother." Sam spat as his fist tightened on the handle of the knife.

It cocked its head. "You sure about that?"

"Pretty damn sure, yeah.'

"Then do something about it. Go ahead and kill me. Unless... You're too scared."

Like hell he was. Sam raised the knife, but... One look into those eyes and Sam just- he couldn't. Sure, of all the times to start acting up, his conscience picks now.

With his mind trying to overcome its inner turmoil, the demon simply charged and tackled Sam to the floor, causing him to lose his grip on the knife. The collision made his shoulder flare in pain, but he didn't have time to dwell on it when the demon punched him in the face.

"_This isn't Dean." _He reminded himself as another blow crashed across his cheek. It may look like Dean, but it isn't him. Which meant that it wouldn't fight like Dean either.

Using that knowledge, Sam rolled out from underneath it, and for once, Sam was extremely grateful for his father's training.

The demon charged him, sloppily, not like Dean would ever do, and Sam whirled out of its way at the last second, and then spun back around only to kick it in the back.

Now the thing was just pissed. It had caught itself on its hands and knees, and before Sam had the chance to take advantage of that, the demon's eyes slipped black again, and it mentally threw Sam to the ground. No longer caring about its prisoner, it unlocked the chains encircling John's wrists, letting him crash to the floor, and then it threw Sam in his place.

His arm sling was ripped off, and his hand was forcibly stretched out, and son of a _bitch _it _hurt!_

"_Not again, never this again, please, _please _not this!" _Sam's mind screamed.

The Dean demon smiled; absent mindedly twirling the still glistening red knife it had used on John. "This bring back memories, Sammy?"

"_Oh, God, please no." _Sam struggled furiously, not even caring about the pain it caused his shoulder; the terror blocked it out.

Chuckling, the demon continued. "Thought it might." It gently placed the knife at Sam's shoulder, teasing the sore muscle with the tip of the blade, when its head suddenly shot back and its face began glowing orange. The demon fell down with a thud, and behind it stood a shell shocked John, holding the knife Sam had dropped.

Before relief could set in, John raised the knife again.

"Wait, Dad, don't!" Sam started struggling worriedly again. "It's me! It's Sam!"

John just shook his head. "It's never you."

"Dad, listen to me. You saw how I was fighting that thing, right? It was you that taught me how to fight, no demon would be able to copy that. Just think about it. It's really me, Dad!"

It looked like John really, _really_ wanted to believe him. "S-Sammy?"

As calmly as he possibly could, Sam nodded. "Yeah. It's me."

Dropping the knife, John unlocked Sam and brought him into a hug. Don't get him wrong, John Winchester isn't a hugger, but he'd been relentlessly tortured every single day for centuries; if not for the countless demons constantly wear Sam's face, he might have forgotten what he looked like. Long story short, he had missed his son.

* * *

"Mr. Crowley?" The nervous demon stuttered.

"What?" Crowley snapped. The past few weeks had been hell for Hell. Two dumbasses were trying to steal his throne, and Sam Winchester had killed one of his beloved pets. What could possibly be happening now?

"It's the Winchesters, sir." He admitted meekly.

"What now?!"

"It's Sam, sir. A reaper named Ajay had lead him into Hell, and Sam has taken John from his cell."

Crowley went quiet. And that was not a good thing. "How do we know this?"

"One of ours found Ajay and- took care of him after learning what he had done."

"And where is Sam now?"

"I-I'm afraid he's already breeched the portal back to Purgatory. There are many different ways back to Earth from there though, even with Ajay there to retrieve him."

"Well then," Crowley stood up from his throne. "Perhaps I ought to be the one to welcome him back."

"That may not-"

"I don't believe I asked for your opinion in the matter." Crowley snapped, internally grinning at the demon's flinch. "Won't be long. And he snapped his fingers.

* * *

"Dad, stop!" Sam commanded as he pulled John back to prevent him from attacking Benny. "He's not gonna hurt us!"

"It's a vampire, Sam! All it does is hurt and kill innocent people."

"Not this one. He's helping us, Dad. He saved my life."

"Should I give you two a moment?" Benny kidded, totally unfazed by John's obvious anger.

"Benny, knock it off." Sam ordered. "Look," He was back to addressing his father. "He's our only way to get through here, and we have to get these trials done."

John's hardened face stayed for a moment, and then gradually began to soften. "You really think you can do it, Sammy?"

Sam nodded "Yeah. Yeah I do. But you gotta trust me."

Reluctantly, John caved. "Alright." He cast one last warning glance to Benny, who simply smiled at him, fangs bared of course, and John scowled again in response.

"C'mon, guys." Sam offered as a plea to keep them both at peace. "Let's keep moving. We've only got about an hour before we have to get back."

All three of them continued their way back through Purgatory, making it back just in time for Ajay to take them home. Or at least, when he was _supposed _to take them back.

"What's going on, Sammy?" John asked worriedly.

"He-he's probably just running late. Let's get this over with." He took a deep breath, steadying the blade over his own arm. "Ready, Dad?"

"This goodbye then?"

It kind of was, wasn't it? "Not for forever. I'll see you again upstairs."

"No hurry in getting up there though. You hear me?"

Sam gave a tiny smile. "Sounds good, Dad." He cut along his arm, blood trickling past, and John transformed into a glowing blue light, transferring into Sam's cut. It felt odd, not exactly painful, just odd. He readied the blade at his other arm.

"You remember where you're taking me, right, brother?" Benny confirmed.

Sam nodded, and then sliced into his other arm. Now knowing what to expect, it wasn't as uncomfortable when Benny's soul rushed into his arm. The skin bubbled and moved, as if alive, and Sam rolled down his sleeves.

Time kept passing; too much time. Ajay had been very specific about how long Sam was to take in Hell, so something was clearly wrong. And if something was wrong, that meant that Sam was stuck.

Unless Sam managed to find another way out. He knew for a fact that there was more than one way. Benny had mentioned something earlier about the many hidden portals and exits. Only now he'd have to navigate Purgatory alone. But Sam was one of the world's best hunters; he could do this.

It may not have been easy, but Sam made it. Unfortunately, he had no idea where he was going to end up now. Sam was worried about what had become of Ajay of course, but now wasn't exactly the time to dwell on it.

Thank God. Up ahead was another glowing portal. Sam was almost home free, when three Leviathans jumped out at him; their heads rearing back until only a mouth was in their places.

Sam tightened his grip on both weapons, and prepared to spend the last few moments of Purgatory kicking these things' asses.

One of the Leviathans charged him, and Sam made quick work of lobbing off its head. The other's attack followed closely behind, and it almost managed to rip a chunk out of Sam before the weapon sliced through its neck. Sam turned about, readying to finally finish everything.

But- where was the last one? His question didn't take long to be answered as he felt arms snake around his shoulders, pinning down his arms. The wide mouth opened again and snapped at him like a piranha in a frenzy. Sam jerked his head away, and kicked his legs back. The Leviathan let go with a hiss, and Sam didn't let it get the upper hand again. He swung the blade, and sliced off the monster's head.

Not willing to wait around for another fight, Sam rushed through the portal. The atmosphere noticeably changed as he found himself back on Earth in a forest. He didn't waste any time in cutting open his arm again, freeing his father, and the light began to ascend towards Heaven.

But then it abruptly stopped, as though it had hit an unseen barrier.

"What the he-"

"Hello, Moose." A familiar voice interrupted.

Crap. Sam swallowed and turned around, keeping his face expressionless so as to hide his slight bout of dread. "Crowley."

Crowley lifted his eyes, and they landed on the struggling soul in the sky. "Hello to you too, John. Going somewhere are we?"

"Let him go, Crowley. He doesn't deserve to be in Hell."

"Course he does. I said so."

Anger coursing through him, Sam started to run at Crowley, but Crowley simply flicked his hand, and Sam was pinned high in a tree. The impact on his shoulder made him groan in pain.

"Sorry, I hit a soft spot?" Crowley chuckled, smiling up at Sam as he internally fought against the invisible strain on his body. "You've been getting around haven't you?" Crowley's eyes narrowed, and he increased the pressure holding Sam to the tree. "Don't take that the wrong way; that wasn't a compliment." He moved closer. "Suppose my only dilemma now is what I ought to do with you."

"You can let him go, and leave quietly." An authoritative voice ordered.

"Castiel." Crowley greeted. "I heard you'd lost all your mojo."

"Then you've heard wrong. It would be nothing for me to kill you right now."

"You're bluffing." Crowley challenged.

In answer, Castiel raised his hand, and his eyes began to glow.

Less confident now, Crowley stuttered, "Y-You won't do it."

Castiel didn't respond.

Unable to bare the risk, Crowley vanished.

Castiel visibly faltered, and stumbled onto his knees, and Sam was dropped from the tree. "Cas." Sam went over to his side. "I thought your grace wasn't strong enough to kill Crowley."

Using Sam as a crutch, Castiel got back on his feet. "It isn't."

It took a second, but then Sam smiled. "You totally just played him."

"I learned it from the best." Castiel weakly smiled back.

Both their eyes went up again, just in time to watch John's soul fly up uninterrupted this time. "He is home now." Castiel told Sam confidently, and Sam nodded, reciting the spell to confirm the end of the trial. "Let's get back to the bunker."

Just when Sam was about to nod in agreement, Sam remembered. _"Benny." _"Actually, Cas, I gotta take care of something else first."

"What is it?"

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

Castiel's head tilted. "Why won't you tell me, Sam?"

"Because there's nothing to worry about." Sam tried to walk past him, but Cas grabbed his uninjured arm; only it was also the arm Benny was still inside, and Sam couldn't help but yelp at Castiel's iron grip.

Instantly more suspicious and worried than before, Cas yanked Sam's sleeve up. He was quiet for a moment. "What's this?" He finally asked.

Pulling his arm back, Sam confessed. "I got some help leaving Purgatory, okay?"

Castiel's teeth ground together. "What kind of help?"

Dammit, Sam should have known he would get caught. He huffed. "It's a vampire."

If Sam thought Cas was mad before, the next look he gave him shot guilt straight through Sam's heart. "You are a hypocrite, Sam Winchester. You berate and ignore me because I had worked with Crowley in order to get you and Dean out of the Pit, and yet you justify doing the same thing, and still believe that you should be allowed to get away with it?"

"Cas, look-"

"I will be at the bunker. Goodbye, Sam." Castiel got into the car he had driven up there, and then he drive off. Coming here to save Sam after he had found Ajay's body at their meeting point was dangerous, but Castiel had come nonetheless, and for what? To find out Sam was working with a monster? Perhaps Dean was right. Perhaps Sam really doesn't care about him after all…

* * *

AN: This took way to freaking long to get typed out. Computer troubles galore, and a surprise visit from a friend that took longer than I had wanted. *Huff* I rushed through my editing, so sorry for my probably numerous errors. Maybe this'll make up for it.

**Sneak Peek: **"'You got a lot on that crumbling mind, Sammy. Not sure you're up for sending me away right now.'"

Okay, drop a review if y'all got time. Please, I could use a little cheer up. I'm getting stressed over literally nothing. I'm just in a mood I guess. Help me out here, guys.


	22. If We Can't Restrain

AN: **Warning:** I don't like saying it, but there is just the slightest implication of past rape in this chapter. I'm not calling it non-con, because that gives something really terrible a "Cute" name, and it feels wrong. But I am warning you, and it's very subtle, but it's there. In fact, I imply it way less than the show did, but I can't let it get by without telling you ahead of time.

* * *

His father and Benny were finally free. And you know what? It felt good. Sam may not have saved a ton of people lately, but he'd saved them, and it felt- right.

Only, his conscience wasn't clear in the slightest. The way Cas had looked at him, and what he had said... He was right. Sam was a hypocrite. Cas had been loyal, and he had done nothing but apologise, and Sam had shut him out. Sam's betrayal must've been a punch right in Cas's gut, and Sam knew that he wouldn't easily gain his trust again; Sam didn't believe that he deserved it.

The second trial had hurt. Sam hadn't told Cas, mostly because there wasn't much he could have done for him; but also because Sam already felt like a burden. Worrying Cas about the pure agony the second trial gave him just seemed pointless.

As Sam drove back to the bunker, he was suddenly thrown into a coughing fit, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. He was forced to hit the brakes as he continued coughing. He was shocked when he pulled back his hand, because when he did, he saw blood running down it.

Okay, maybe he was worse off than he thought.

"That doesn't look good, buddy."

No. No, not now. Sam's eyes slowly drifted to the passenger seat, until out of his peripheral vision, he saw Lucifer. "_Not real, go away, go away, he's not real."_

"Maybe you should see a doctor. I think you're breaking... Again."

Sam's fingers went to the scar on his chest left from Abbadon, but to his horror, Lucifer didn't vanish. Hell, he didn't even flicker!

"You got a lot on that crumbling mind, Sammy. Not sure you're up for sending me away right now." Lucifer waited for Sam to say something, and when he didn't, he proceeded to poke Sam on his bad shoulder. He chuckled inwardly at Sam's jaw clenching as he tried not to react to the pain. "Don't be like this. Haven't you missed me? I've missed you, you know. And Dean too! How's Dean doing, Sammy?"

Sam just put the car in gear again, and pressed forward.

"So," Lucifer continued. "Still not good, then?"

"Shut. Up." Sam snapped through his teeth.

With fake sentimentality, Lucifer put a hand over his heart. "Sammy, it means so much that you care! I thought I was gonna have to bring out the chains again to get you to talk to me!"

Dammit, dammit, dammit! Why the hell had Sam let himself cave?!

"Reminds me of the first time you begged me, Sammy. You remember? It was your first day in the Pit with me, so you were probably pretty nervous. Anyway, Dean had just lost his sight, but it didn't stop him from screaming for you over and over! He didn't even know what I was doing to you, but he just kept on saying your name. He probably didn't ever think that I was r-"

Sam's knuckles cracked again Lucifer's face. Even though Sam didn't believe that Lucifer was real, he didn't want to be reminded of those memories. Ever. But son of a bitch, why did punching a hallucination hurt so much?!

Laughing, Lucifer wiped the blood off his lips. "Sorry, am I cueing your PTSD there, buddy?"

"Just go away." Sam almost pleaded.

Lucifer ignored the request, and far too casually rested his head on Sam's shoulder. "This is nice, isn't it? Just you and me. No Michael, no Dean. This has gotta be pretty special for you too, right?"

Arguing was getting him nowhere, so Sam just tried to block out the voice and keep his eyes on the road to the bunker,

"Hey, c'mon, Sammy, don't be like that. We were making progress!" He sat up, and brought his feet to begin poking Sam with them. "Sammy. Sammy. Sammy. Sammy."

How like a child. Only a child would shut up if you told them to after enough reprimands. Lucifer? Lucifer wouldn't stop. No amount of pain that Sam caused himself, no matter what he said, Lucifer wouldn't stop.

"Sammy. Sammy. Sammy..."

* * *

"I was right, wasn't I?" Dean mocked with a grin. As soon as Castiel had walked into the room, Dean knew that the angry he face he put on was a mere mask in order to disguise the hurt.

There was no pretext; Castiel just punched Dean right across the face. Dean's head snapped sideways, because even with dwindling grace, Castiel could still hit. But all Dean did was laugh.

"Take that as a yes."

Castiel hit him again. The guy must've been pretty pissed. Oh, the fun Dean could have!

"What'd Sammy do?" Dean's voice slipped to the tone one would use if one were addressing an infant. "Did Sammy turn his back on you?"

Another punch. And another. And another. And Dean just laughed ,and laughed. "Having fun there, Cas?"

"All I wanted was to help you, Dean!" Castiel hit him again. "Do you realise how much I sacrificed for you and Sam?!" Punch. "I lost brothers and sisters in that war!" Punch. "I lost my good name!" Another punch, and Castiel felt his knuckles crack against Dean's cheek this time. "I lost everything for you!"

Deja vu was prominent as Castiel landed blow after blow. He'd been here before when Dean had almost told Michael 'yes.' Well, the first time. Sure, the results weren't the ones he had been hoping for last time, but this time, Castiel didn't regret unleashing his anger. This time around probably wouldn't gain anything, but oh how he needed this release.

Each hit became a blur, and Castiel was unsure whether the blood on his hands was his or Dean's. The laughter had stopped, but Castiel didn't let up. He watched Dean's head loll around his neck, then slowly fall to his chest, until it would snap back when Castiel hit him again. He wasn't sure how long he'd been hitting Dean, but he became aware when he heard his name being called,

"Cas! Cas, stop!"

Arms wrapped around his chest and yanked him away from Dean. Castiel didn't really know why, but he fought against the hold.

"Knock it off, Cas! You've done enough!"

When Castiel's eyes drifted back to Dean unconscious body, he knew that the voice was right. Dean's chest was rising in sharp hitches, blood leaking past his lips. But Castiel didn't truly care that he had gone too far, and he shook the hands off and stormed past them.

"Cas!" The hands grabbed him again, forcing him to stare into those angry hazel eyes. "What the hell was that?!"

"He provoked me, Sam." Castiel told him coldly. Who cared if it was a bit of an exaggeration?

"That doesn't mean you get to bash his face in!"

"As if you haven't done this to him too."

"I didn't knock him unconscious! And you said that he was worth keeping alive!"

"He still is!" Castiel shouted.

"Then why-?

"Don't pretend that you still care about him. Don't pretend that you care about anyone other than yourself! You've made your feelings clear, Sam."

"Oh, that is such bull, Cas! I'm willing to walk straight into Hell in order to close the gates, and you think that I don't care about anyone?"

"Sammy, calm down, you're gonna give me a headache with all this shouting." Lucifer whined.

_"Go away, go away!" _Sam screamed internally.

"You are just trying to be a hero, Sam. You've given up a long time ago, and not just on me, or your brother, but everything."

"See?" Lucifer chided." "Even Cassie doesn't have faith in you. Maybe you really should just give up." He put his index finger under his chin, and imitated shooting a gun, even adding a little explosion sound for emphasis.

"Shut up!" Sam shouted, but even he wasn't sure who he was talking to.

"You're losing it." Lucifer sing-songed childishly.

Castiel said something, but Sam's head began burning as far too vivid memories started assaulting his mind. He felt a trickle of blood run from his nose as he dropped into the ground in a series of convulsions.

"Sam!" All of Castiel's rage vanished, and morphed into terrifying worry.

Sam's eyes were wide, yet unfocused as he pleaded to no one in particular, "H-help me..."

* * *

**AN: **Hey, who let that cliffhanger in here? *Muse shamefully raises hand* Bad muse! *Secretly throws Muse a treat*

**Sneak Peek: **"I ever tell you how much I hate your brother?" This speech again. Sam had practically memorised it. It was Lucifer's favourite intangible torture.

Drop a review if y'all got time, and the next chapter will be up very soon! Thanks, guys!


	23. The Beast Which Dwells Inside

**AN:** **Warning: **Serious blood and gore. If you're squeamish, avoid all Italics. I started watching Daredevil on Netflix, and that show is dark, so it's inspired me in some unsettling ways, for which I apologise.

* * *

Was one little blowout sans interruption really too much to ask for? Winchester luck was alive and well, because as soon as Castiel was finally allowed to let out his bottled up feelings, Sam drops into a seizure. Of course.

"Sam!" Castiel shook Sam to get his attention.

"Sammy." Lucifer whispered.

"Whatever you are seeing, it isn't real!"

"Sure I am, buddy."

"Look at me, Sam. I am right here."

"I'm always gonna be here for you, Sammy."

Too many voices, too many memories, too much pain, too much blood-

_Blood slicked every part of Sam's body. It sloshed and ran down his chest in torrents each and every time Sam took a laboured breath._

"_Yknow," Lucifer commented as he casually picked up a scalpel. "I'm learning a lot from this experience. I mean, did you know that all these pressure points even existed?" He then dug his finger into the one by Sam's funny bone; Lucifer had informed him long ago that it was called the ulnar nerve._

_There was no gag, no flaps of skin stuffed inside his mouth to muffle his cry, so Sam's scream echoed throughout the blackened abyss that was the Cage. The scream itself hurt, and Sam snapped his eyes shut in agony._

"_C'mon," Lucifer continued carelessly. "Don't tell me you're not finding all this educational too."_

_Sam opened his eyes just in time to see the scalpel be plunged only slightly above his right eye, and, God, how he wailed._

"_That nerve's called the trigeminal. That one always gets a really good scream out of you, don't you think?"_

_Not answering Lucifer only ever brought more pain, so Sam forced himself to nod, even though it caused the scalpel to scrape inside him once more, dragging another ragged cry from his already raw throat._

_Lucifer nodded, satisfied. "I'm glad we agree, Sammy." He ripped the blade free, silently relishing in Sam's obvious pain._

"_S-st-stop." The word barely had meaning anymore, but Sam could never stop himself from saying it._

"_I ever tell you how much I hate your brother?"_

_This speech again. Sam had practically memorised it. It was Lucifer's favourite intangible torture. _

"_I mean, I try to hate what you hate, love what you love, but Dean just..." Lucifer huffed, as he always did. "He ruined everything, Sammy. I had you, I was going to take Michael down, I would have purified the Earth. It was supposed to be my job. But Dean..." The usual pause to laugh humourlessly. "Dean, Dean, Dean... You know something though?"_

_Never ignore Lucifer. Never. "Wh-What?" Oh, God, everything hurt._

_Lucifer was suddenly right in Sam's ear, his ice cold breath sending a shudder down Sam's spine. "He won't be your big brother much longer. See him over there, Sammy?"_

_Knowing Dean was in pain was Sam's least favourite intangible torture. He forced his eyes to turn towards where he knew Dean was._

_Michael was currently in the midst of trying to break his record of how many organs he could fit inside Dean's mouth. He'd picked up a little cheat from his brother, which was dislocating the jaw so as to allow room for more innards to be shoved inside._

"_Know what Michael's doing to him?"_

_Besides torturing Dean past the limit of human endurance? Sam forgot about Lucifer's rule for a moment, just because of how disgusted and horrified of all this he was. It didn't take long for him to remember when Lucifer shoved his finger back into his trigeminal nerve. This time Sam felt his eyeball almost fall from its socket. His scream was utterly inhuman._

"_Answer me, Sammy."_

_Sam didn't think he'd have a chance in hell at speaking, but there was no way he'd risk nodding with Lucifer's finger buried in his eye. "N-no." He sobbed._

_Lucifer's breath was so cold and so close that Sam could feel frostbite creeping up his ear. "He's breaking him."_

_There usually wasn't a reason for Lucifer to continue torturing Sam, not that he needed one greater than Sam being the reason that they were trapped down here. He shoved his finger further inside the wound, they tightly grasped Sam's eye, and then tore it from the socket. Sam heard the squelching pop, followed by the feeling of blood bursting down his face, but the trickling wasn't more prominent than the gut-wrenching agony searing throughout his whole body._

"_Know what happens when he breaks?"_

_Forget trying to answer, Sam was just trying not to give in to the sweet bliss of death, albeit the bliss only lasting for a short while._

_Luckily, Lucifer let it slide this time. "He turns into one of my children. Black eyes and everything."_

_This wasn't part of Lucifer's usual rant. This was all new to Sam's ears, and honestly, it made Sam long for the torture again. It hurt less than this._

"_And here's my favourite part;" Lucifer's forked tongue slid down the shell of Sam's ear, making him shiver and whimper in blatant fear. "I'm gonna let him take my place."_

"Please, Sam. Come back."

_More blood, more pain, Lucifer won't let him die!_

"Look at me, Sam. You're safe now."

_Can't look, can't see, can't breathe! Never safe, never safe!"_

"Your brother and I need you. Don't give up now. We're so close."

_Too close, always so close, never going to get away._

"You are strong, Sam. You chose to let Dean live, you chose not to torture him in Hell. You can beat whatever may be happening inside your head right now. You can fight this."

... "C-Cas?" Sam's eyes slowly began to focus, the phantom pains beginning to fade.

Castiel sighed in obvious relief. "Yes. Yes, it's me. Are you okay now?"

Sam only nodded.

Castiel shook his head. "Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"

"It wasn't." Sam explained. "Not at first. But after the second trial... I've been remembering things... Too many things."

"Meaning the Cage?"

"Vividly. It's not even like memories, it's like-..."

Castiel finished for him. "It's like you are there."

Another nod.

"I am so sorry, Sam. What Can I do?"

"Honestly?" Sam winced slightly as Lucifer shot a spitball at the back of his head. "I just want to finish the trials. Maybe it'll stop once it's all over."

"Or maybe you'll just drop dead." Suggested a different voice, but a disappointingly familiar one. "I'm kinda rooting for that one." Dean laughed. "That was some fit you had back there, little brother. Tell me, what'd you see?"

"Be quiet, Dean." Castiel ordered.

"Aw, Cas, I get all tingly when you take control like that."

"Me too." Lucifer agreed, only heard by Sam.

"Kevin made any progress with the third trial yet?" Sam asked, trying to ignore both Dean and Lucifer.

"Not that I am yet aware of."

"Let's go ask him." Sam- suggested wasn't quite the right word. "I'd rather not stay here longer than I have to."

"But I'm bleeding, Sammy." Dean whined. "Make it better."

"Cas, give me a minute alone with him."

"I thought you-" Castiel started, only to have Sam cut him off.

"I changed my mind. He'll be fine."

Obvious hesitation showed on Castiel's face, but he figured he owed Sam a little leeway considering what he's just suffered through, so he nodded, and left Sam with Dean.

Except for Dean's impatient tapping of his fingers against the chair, the room was quiet for a moment. "I really don't get it, Dean." Sam said at last.

"What's there not to get?"

"You spent your whole life watching out for me, taking care for me, you always had my back. I knew Hell was gonna be bad, but I thought we'd be able to make it through together. You turned on me, Dean."

"Well excuse me for growing tired of all the torture."

"No, that's not it. Some part of you wanted to give in; to hurt me.'

"Do you blame me? I saved your ass more times than I can count, and how often did you leave me in the dirt? You're selfish, Sam."

There's that word again. "I wanted a life, Dean. And I know I left you and Dad to get it, but it didn't really work out the way I had wanted anyway. I know what I am now; I'm a freak, and I know I'm never gonna get away from this life."

"Then why'd you keep bailing on me?"

"Because I'm not just a freak, Dean; I'm dangerous. Mom, Jess, Bobby, Meg... You. They all died because of me.'

"Actually, I'll take credit for Bobby. Still can't get his blood out of the Impala. Might have to get rid of the thing."

Oh hell no. Dean did not just diss his baby. "See? Now I know it can't be you in there. You'd never say that about the Impala."

"News flash; I just did."

"Know what? I feel sorry for you, Dean." Sam told him earnestly. "Really, really sorry."

"Oh yeah? And why's that?"

With determination and certainty strengthening his confidence, Sam declared, "Because when we fix you, you're gonna regret all of this. I can't even imagine how you're gonna live with yourself."

"You ain't playing with a 'when', Sammy. I ain't going anywhere."

Sam's expression didn't falter. "For now.'

Dean chuckled manically. "Ooh, mysterious. I definitely believe you now."

"You don't have to, but it's happening. I couldn't save you in Hell, but I'm not gonna make that mistake again. I'm getting my brother back."

"No you're not." Dean stated nonchalantly. "If there was a way to save me, you'd've done it already. But, here we are."

"Deny it all you want, Dean, but I'm not giving up on you. Even if you have."

With an angry sneer, Dean went silent. Like hell he'd given up on anything! He'd have to have cared about something in order to give up. No, Sam was wrong.

_Dead _wrong.

* * *

AN: Foreshadowing? No, of course not...

Of course not.

Drop a review for old sammysmissingshoe here, and I'll get the next chapter up ASAP! We've probably got two or three more, if that.


	24. It Will Find Its Way

**AN: **Sorry for the long wait (Again) but this week's been crap-ton busy. Guys, this story is over 100 hand written pages. Somebody stop me. Sadly, I know how this ends, and know what? It's gonna be painful, but it'll be- okay.

* * *

"How did it go?" Castiel asked upon seeing Sam come out of the dungeon.

"About as well as you could think." Sam answered plainly.

"He is still being stubborn?"

"No, he's just being- Dean. An asshole version of him, but Dean." Sam shook his head. "I hate that he's free, and yet he's- that."

"It is not permanent."

"We keep saying that, but we've got nothing so far to prove that that'll ever be true. I've been looking through book after book-"

"You have?" Castiel interjected; he hadn't known that.

"Course I have. But I've found squat so far. There's gotta be something. I know it."

"Sam!" Kevin suddenly called from the other room. His voice was sickly. Kevin had been working far too long and far too hard. The kid was going to slip over the edge if he didn't get some rest soon.

"Coming!" Sam told him, and he headed over to Kevin's little makeshift desk, Castiel following close behind. "What you got, Kev?"

"This is it." He announced. "There's only one trial left."

"Seriously?" Sam's hope started to soar.

Kevin nodded. "Finish this, and the gates are closed forever."

"Well great! What is it?"

"Y-yeah, about that..."

"Oh crap, what?"

"The last trial... It's curing a demon."

You've got to be joking. "By 'curing them' do you mean making them human?"

"I'm sorry, Sam."

Sam shook his head. "No. No, this is a good thing. God wouldn't have made it a trial if it wasn't possible. Now we know we can. We just gotta find out how."

"How do you propose we do that?" Castiel inquired.

Huffing in slight disappointment, Sam replied, "Guess we just keep digging through the books. We already know that there's hidden dungeons, which could mean they've got other hidden rooms. Maybe they're trying to hide important stuff like this." Sam actually laughed for a moment.

"What's so funny?" Kevin asked.

"Just- the fact that an already hidden bunker, with an almost unobtainable key, and warding everywhere, they still feel the need to hide rooms. Just seems a little overkill, know?"

Kevin cracked a tiny smile.

"Anyway," Sam refocused. "We should start looking."

"Worth a shot." Kevin concurred.

"It's our only shot." Sam told them solemnly. "This-" He smiled. Honest to God smiled. "This is gonna be it, guys. No more demons."

"It is all a bit surreal, isn't it?" Castiel agreed. "But I believe we can do this. _You _can do this, Sam."

Hope finally flooded Sam, an emotion that was long overdue. Other emotions such as disappointment, rage, brief fits of insanity had been his constant companions for far too long. But now, there was a light at the end of this long, long tunnel. He now just had to find the means to reach it. He was so close now.

So, so close.

* * *

"You really believe I am going to fall for that?" Crowley asked with a doubtful raise of his eyebrow.

"I believe you and I both want the throne, and we're a lot more deserving of it than that Winchester boy." Abbadon stated slyly. "Two of us gunning for the throne, fine. But three's a crowd."

"What exactly are you asking for from me? I know for a fact that you tried to work with Squirrel, and then tried to stab him in the back. Quite literally if what I've heard is correct."

"The opportunity presented itself, so I took a chance. Honestly, can you blame me?"

"And how do I know that you won't try to do the same to me?"

"We'll reach a gentlemen's agreement."

Crowley chuckled. "Despite appearances, I'm not as friendly as you may think."

"But I know you're a business man, aren't you? You can't resist making a good deal."

"Nothing about this deal really screams 'good' to me. Not that that's stopped me before, but."

"Be real with me, Crowley. You don't want Dean to get Hell's crown, do you?"

"What do you think, Red?"

"Thought so." She smiled. It really was a mystery as to how Josie ever used those lips in a not so menacing way. There was never a trace of humanity in those eyes. "He's just an angry human sporting a pair of black eyes. He isn't a demon. A demon doesn't know their name. A demon doesn't get captured by a man of letters. A demon doesn't have a family. Don't you agree?"

"I'm not denying that I see your point, but you'd still be mad to think that I'd trust you."

"Trust doesn't mean a thing in war, dear. It's all wit. And that's what it'll come down to once everything's all said and done. Battle of wits between me and you. No tricks, just one. Little. Deal."

"You're playing a dangerous game there, love. Making deals with the devil doesn't usually end well."

"I'm not exactly an angel. I've got no problem with the devil."

Crowley couldn't help but grin at that. "Shall we discuss terms?"

"It's simply, really. We find Dean, kill him, and then our battle of wits begins. Sound fair?"

"Suppose you'll be wanting to sign this the old fashioned way?"

Her red lips that were still spread in that wide smile formed a sneaky little pucker. "Hope you're not too out of practice."

"Hope you don't mind a little tongue."

Their lips pressed together, and the deal was sealed.

* * *

"Guys!" Sam called to Kevin and Cas. "Come check out this tape I found."

"'Tape?'" Kevin asked. "Those things still exist? Oh, whatever, put it in." Kevin rubbed a tired hands over his heavily bagged eyes. Hours of fruitless efforts to find something, anything, about curing a demon had made his hopes start dwindling, and damn, he could use a break.

The first thing heard on the tape was a woman's voice, a familiar one. "Simon, we're filming."

Simon shifted, seemingly nervous. "Um, hello, world."

"So this new ritual we're going to see, this new type of exorcism, h-how does it work?" The woman asked eagerly. Dammit, she was so familiar!

Before Simon gave her a clear answer, another man's voice called him from off screen, and Simon went to it. As he stood, he admitted, "I don't know. It's my first time."

Following Simon, the camera turned a corner, and happened upon a mirror, revealing who was wielding the camera.

"Wait, is that Abbadon?" Sam asked in shock.

"It-it doesn't seem like it. It may just be her vessel, before it was occupied."

"What was her name? Josie?"

A series of screams from the clip silenced them. There was a brief glance of a figure chained to the ground, but it was mostly the terrified look on Simon's face. The other priest looked at him. "Hurry! We must do it now!"

Per usual, the demon was screaming empty and useless threats as the priests splashed it with holy water. The men began chanting an exorcism, but it changed into a stream of Latin that Sam didn't recognise. Then one of the priests took out a knife, and cut across his palm. "Lustra." He said. "Lustra!" Then he charged the demon and stuck his bloody palm to its mouth. The demon shrieked muffledly as its black eyes began to glow. The camera turned away from the action as though afraid, now facing Josie.

"She's dead." Josie declared, turning the camera back to the now unmoving body the demon had been using. "Where's the demon?" The camera zoomed in to reveal a gaping hole in the poor woman's chest, smoke steadily rising from it. Josie tried inquire further, but the priests just snapped at her to turn off the camera, thus ending the clip.

"Okay that-" Kevin wasn't sure what to say. "That was just weird."

"Bigtime weird, yeah." Sam agreed. Weird wasn't what he was looking for though. He was looking for answers, for a way to cure his brother. "Hang on, there's more. These are just recordings though." Sam slipped them onto a player, and the room went quiet again.

An explanation and the slight heaving growls of breath was all that was heard on the tape. The man apparently had a demon there, one that had- possessed a man, and then ate his own children. Sam knew demons were bad, but this- this was sickening, even after all he'd seen.

The man on the tape asked the demon how it made him feel, and its response of, "Orgasmic" made Sam, Castiel, and Kevin all cringe.

"The first dose has been administered." The man announced to the recording.

"First dose of what?" Kevin inquired.

Sam started flipping through the files, finally pointing to where he must have found his answer. "Okay, guy's name was Father Thompson, and he was using-" His eyes squinted. "His own purified blood."

"Purified?" Kevin asked curiously. "Purified how?"

Eyes scanning hurriedly across the paper, he landed on another answer. "Before he started this ritual, Father Thompson went to confession."

On and on the tape went, second dose, third dose, fourth, on and on and on. The demon kept shouting the typical retorts of, "Screw you" or, "Kiss my ass" or the forever ironic, "Go to hell", but through all that, when Father Thompson had reached hour eight, the demon had just screamed for him to stop. Only it wasn't screaming out of spite, or anger. It sounded afraid. Almost- a _human_ kind of afraid.

"Hour eight," Father Thompson said to the recording. "The subject is prepped."

Again, the altered exorcism slipped past Father Thompson's lips, and Sam, Castiel, and Kevin prepared themselves to listen to yet another failure as the final "Lustra" was uttered.

Only, that isn't what they heard at all. Father Thompson was dressing the demon again, asking it how it had felt to eat the poor man's children.

"They were screaming..." It said, with a quiver in its voice, one that a demon couldn't fake. "And I laughed. Why did I laugh?" The sincerity in its voice was heartbreaking. But not as much as the next words it spoke. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. God, I was a monster."

"But now you are a man again." Father Thompson exclaimed. "And you have been saved!"

Awe wasn't the right word to use. Nor disbelief, nor astonishment. Maybe- no, there _definitely_ wasn't a word for how Sam felt right now. He shut off the clip. "Did he just... Cure a demon?"

Granted, this information would have been nice to know when Meg was still around, but that just wasn't the case. Sure, Sam wasn't going to see Jess again, but there was one thing, one single thing that made that okay.

Sam was finally going to get his brother back.

* * *

AN: Oh gosh, it's almost over everybody. But, I do have another story planned once this one is finally over. I really hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I am, and if you are, let me know a drop a review if you got time! See y'all soon!


	25. Somehow, Somewhere in Time

AN: I've not said this yet, but thanks to all anonymous reviewers, since I can't personally message you back. And if I have missed anyone in thanking them for reviews, I deeply apologise. Thanks again, guys!

* * *

Consecrated ground was the most difficult thing to find, but once the place had been selected, Sam was positive that the task would be completed.

The church was small. Sort of ironic how something so seemingly insignificant and broken down could harbor such an amazing feat. In that instance, it was kind of like Sam, wasn't it? His past had left him weary, lonely, but he'd made it this far. Even with Lucifer constantly screaming in his ear, Sam wasn't going to give in. Not just yet.

After Dean was all prepped and ready to be healed, unconscious and still bound to the Devil's trap chair, Sam realised that the consecrated ground really wasn't the most trying ingredient.

It was the purified blood.

Throughout his whole life, blood had always been Sam's burden. At six months old, Sam was tainted, unclean. Sure, he didn't have a choice in the matter, but he _had_ chosen to go behind Dean's back and drink the blood that damned him in the first place. Could he even be purified after that? Sure, God can forgive a lot, but was this just too much to ask?

Disregarding his doubt, Sam stepped into the church's confession booth. It was quiet; Sam had asked Cas and Kevin to let him handle this alone, so the only sounds were the creaking of the wooden bench, and Dean's steady breathing.

Sam took a deep breath. "If anyone's still listening up there, here goes." Where does he even start? "I've messed up a lot. I've got a lot of people hurt, even killed... But that's not what keeps me up at night." Sam closed his eyes, and exhaled again. "It's all the times I've let my brother down. All my life he's been there for me, but I-... Saying I've disappointed doesn't even come close to covering it.

"Demon blood, saying yes, not protecting him in Hell, that's not even scratching the surface of all I've done to him. He deserved so much better. If I hadn't been born, he'd have a mom, a dad." Sam chuckled humourlessly. "I think my greatest sin is existing. I know what I am to everyone around me; I'm a freak, a danger, a burden..." He shook his head, keeping his eyes cast downward. "So now..." He huffed once more, nodding with determination. "Now I'm gonna make things right."

"That is so sweet." That voice wasn't Dean's, but it was just as terrifyingly recognizable; Lucifer's. "You really think you're gonna fix everything. That's just adorable, Sammy."

There wasn't much point in ignoring him, so Sam was gonna stand up for himself this time. "I'm saving my brother. You can't stop me. You don't control me anymore.'

Lucifer grinned. "Don't I though?" He wriggled a finger at the floor by Sam's feet. Small embers started glowing on the wood, a fire threatening to ignite. "Dance, Sammy."

As much as he hated playing Lucifer's game, Sam's feet frantically stomped on the ground to extinguish the flames before they could leap to life. Lucifer knew Sam could never choke down his fear of fire. Such a simple trick, but it worked. It always worked.

"You're still my little bitch, Sammy. Now, and forever."

"Doesn't matter." Sam argued, voice trembling only slightly. "No matter what you do to me, I'm not giving up."

"Even if I do this?"

Sam suddenly felt himself be shoved into the back of the confession booth, and the feeling of Lucifer's icy fingers plunging through his stomach shortly followed.

"You're never gonna get rid of me." Lucifer's voice was calm, but fury was so very, very blatant, even over the sounds of Sam's panicked and pained gasps. "Cuz you and I, we're just so- close." His fingers twisted and tugged _things _inside of Sam, things that should never be touched, and Sam couldn't help but whimper. "You think letting Dean down is a sin? No, no, no, Sammy, you've done far worse. God's made a special place for those in Hell who've danced with the Devil. Granted, you were in that special little place, but you skipped out on your eternal punishment." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Kinda missed the whole point of it being 'eternal.'"

"S-st-stop." Sam could pretend that he was telling himself to stop acknowledging Lucifer's presence, but they both knew what he really wanted; for the pain to cease.

But it didn't stop. It never did, it never did, oh, God, it never _will! _"Uh-uh, buddy. Think all this is gonna get you forgiven? Wrong. You wanna pay for your sins? Then hold still."

Agony so deep and consuming swallowed Sam again and again, never-ending, over and over. Hands so cold going places so dark; pain so real filling every fibre in his body. Lucifer's mocking and gleeful laughter mixing into the cacophony of Sam's cries. Maybe he was only screaming in his mind.

His mind, his mind... His imagination, his illusion, his hallucination. Sam closed his eyes.

"_That's all this is. A hallucination. He isn't there, you watched him as you left the Cage. He isn't out, he's never getting out, he isn't here now, he isn't here, he isn't real!"_

He opened his eyes, and he was alone. Blood wasn't leaking down every inch of him, he wasn't in pain; but most importantly, he was alone.

With a shaky breath, Sam pushed the door to the confession booth open, and he stepped out.

"_Keep it together, you're almost there." _He instructed himself. He went closer to Dean, but stayed outside of the Devils' Trap. He wasn't an idiot. "Dean." This was it. "C'mon, I know you're awake. You are my brother."

Black eyes flicked open at him. Dean cracked his neck, rolling it around on his shoulders. "Was worth a shot." The eyes returned to their normal colour. "What's with the change of scenery?"

Sam didn't answer. What would be the point? Dean would figure it out pretty soon anyway. Wordlessly, Sam slipped a needle into his arm, and began extracting his blood. His purified blood. After so many tainted years, his finally _clean _blood.

Almost seeming to sense that something bad was coming, Dean squirmed for just a moment. "What you got there, Sammy?"

Quick as a whip, Sam plunged the needle into Dean's neck, wincing in sympathy at his surprised yell.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean growled. "The hell was that?"

Again, Sam left him wondering, silently noting the time.

"_One down, seven to go."_

* * *

"Hey, Cas?" Kevin piped up from his desk, needing a break from translating the smaller portions of the tablet. This Metatron guy had some really crappy penmanship. Scribe-manship? Whatever, it gave Kevin a headache.

"Yes, Kevin?"

His fingers tapped anxiously on the table. "Once Sam finished the trials..." He lifted up his eyes, hope shimmering in them. "Do I get to go home?"

Castiel was unsure how to answer. "I-I don't think I know what to tell you for sure, but I would advise against it. Sam has tried to leave this life before, but it has not ended well for him."

"This isn't me though. I'm not cut out for this life."

"That does not really matter in this case. Whether you are ready for it or not, something will always come for you."

"'Something' being demons? They won't be around anymore after this. I want my life back, Cas."

"But there are other dangers. Other monsters, angels-" He stopped abruptly, eyes widening as he looked away, deep in thought.

"What? What is it?"

"Angels."

"What about angels?"

"If there is a demon tablet, there must be one for angels. And if the demon tablet holds the key to closing Hell's gates, what might the angel tablet contain?"

"You're using a lot of if's there, Cas. You don't even know where the tablet is, do you?"

"No, but there is someone who does."

"Who?"

"Metatron. The angel who wrote the tablets in the first place. He's been in hiding for centuries now. But he must know something about its location." He stood up. "I need to find him."

"Whoa, hang on, seriously? You're just gonna- get up and leave?"

"You can call me if you need me."

"Yeah, but-" The sound of flapping wings cut him off. At least Castiel was feeling well enough to fly, but Kevin still huffed. "Okay, bye."

There had to be something. These trials couldn't be completely consequence free, and Kevin was determined to find out exactly what those consequences would be.

Now that Castiel had gone off to find Metatron, Kevin should make him deliver a big punch in the face for writing such crappy notes. And seriously, Metatron? What a stupid name. Had to be a stupid angel.

But, Cas was sure that he'd know something about the tablet. And maybe that means that he'd know about the after effects of the trials. Because despite how forcefully Kevin was hurled into this life, Sam had taken care of him, ignoring all his whining and protesting.

Kevin was an only child, but he knew how big brothers were supposed to act; and that was exactly how Sam was. He was straight with Kevin, told him how it was, but he was still highly protective with him too. Sam had thrown himself into the line of fire time and time again to keep Kevin safe, and Kevin knew it wasn't just because he was a prophet. Sam truly cared about him, and Kevin felt the same way; he really didn't want anything bad to happen to Sam.

Taking into account all the things he'd seen in just the course of a few weeks, that was probably wishful thinking. But it didn't hurt to hope.

* * *

AN: If there's still something you'd like to see before the end of this story, please let me know. I can't guarantee that it'll show up, but hearing what you guys want always helps my writing. Now that my busy schedule will be clear after Saturday, updates shouldn't be so sparse. I will see y'all soon!


	26. Will We Remember?

**AN: **Alright, I suck. I ain't really got any excuses for my lateness other than my tendency to procrastinate. Chapter's at least a little longer. *Sighs* I am disappointed in myself for the wait. Seriously, sorry guys.

* * *

Three injections left. That was all it would take for Sam to finally get his brother back. There had been several changes in Dean along the way; subtle changes, but changes nonetheless.

Threats and curses slowly morphed into nothing but angry growls and an occasional, "Stop!' But it wore off often. Dean would spend the hours in between hits belittling Sam and bringing up old hurts, but Sam didn't care. Not this time.

Checking the time once more, Sam saw that it was almost time for another shot. As he prepped the needle he heard Dean. _His _Dean.

"Why don't you give up, Sammy?" The question was asked softly, not mockingly or threateningly, it was a genuine inquiry.

Sam winced as he pulled the needle out of his arm. "Cuz you're my brother."

"Hell of a brother I've been lately."

"It doesn't matter what you did, you weren't you." He told Dean as he approached him.

Instinctively, Dean squirmed again as the needle neared his neck. "Just let me go, Sammy. There's no point."

Screw that, there was always a point to the dumbass stunts they pulled to save one another. Without another word, Sam slipped the syringe into Dean's neck, pressing the plunger and injecting Dean once more. This time, Dean didn't fight it as much, he simply closed his eyes with a wince, but he let it happen.

When Dean's eyes stared back at Sam, Sam knew he was so close, but he wasn't sure if he himself could make it.

Lucifer was there. He always was now. Laughing, whistling, torturing, it didn't matter what he was doing, it just mattered that he _was. _No amount of shoving the needle in too hard, or digging his fingers into his scars would make Lucifer's image so much as twitch,

His head constantly hurt, although hurt didn't really convey the true extent of the unrelenting pressure and voices constantly lingering in the back of Sam's head. Invent a word for that, and that was what Sam was feeling.

"S-Sammy..." Dean slurred breathlessly. This trial was weakening him almost as much as it was Sam. He could feel his blood simmering beneath his skin, fighting the acceptance of the new blood attempting to enter hid system. Whilst a majority of his mind was screaming at him to rip Sam apart the second he stepped close enough, a small, almost inaudible voice once known as his conscience pleaded with him not to harm his brother. 'Sam is only trying to help' it said.

Why though? Even now, Dean couldn't believe that Sam still had faith in him. Hell, Sam himself had said he didn't prior to the trials. Was Sam really that good of a liar? Actually, thinking on that, he'd known Sam his whole life; kid was a damn good liar. Guess he really did care after all.

"It's okay, Dean." Sam comforted truthfully. "We're almost done, I promise."

"'S hurtin' you, Sam."

"Well, it's helping you, so it doesn't matter."

"Please, Sammy..."

"No. I'm not st-stopping." Sam's eyes were red rimmed, his forehead glistened with sweat; his breaths were thick and heavy, hands trembling at the exertion of all of this. In short, he wasn't well.

"Not even after all I've done to you?"

Sam offered a weak smile. "Especially after all you've done to me. Besides, I guess I kinda deserved it."

"No you didn't, Sammy. Nothing you ever did could justify all that. Sam I- I'm so sorry."

There it was; the apology. The apology that made Sam know; he knew that he no longer had to blame himself for everything, he knew he could forgive Dean, and he knew that he was getting his brother back. "Then let me do this. If you're really sorry, you'll let me finish. Please, Dean."

Accepting it, Dean dropped his head, so very weary. "How much longer?"

"Just two more hours."

"You may not have that long." Lucifer giggled. "You really don't look so good, Sammy. Why don't you take a break? One little bullet is all you need."

Clenching his jaw, Sam tried to tune the voice out, even when Lucifer began demandingly snapping his fingers in Sam's face while continuously repeating his name.

"Sam?" Dean's voice was muddled through all the disorienting snaps.

"What?" Sam asked in a slight daze.

"What's wrong with you? I said your name like six times."

"L-little distracted. I-I just need to sit down." And so he did. The world felt lopsided, the urge to let his eyes slip shut was so... very... tempting.

His eyes began to close.

* * *

This Metatron guy gave Castiel a very bad feeling. He was a coward. Once Castiel had finally found him, the douche had been hiding in a hotel room surrounded with just about every book known to man. Castiel did not trust him in the slightest.

Despite his lack of faith in the guy, Castiel needed to find the angel tablet. Its unknown power could be deadly. Metatron would know where it was, so Castiel was about to be relieved from him once he told Castiel where it was, but then Metatron offered to assist him.

An angel who had spent centuries in hiding suddenly wanting to jump right into the line of fire? Yeah that wasn't at all suspicious.

"I do not require your help." Castiel told him.

Metatron's face turned pouty, like a child. "I can feel your grace, Castiel. It's slipping away. You need someone to hold your hand across the street.'

"What exactly is in it for you, Metatron?" Nobody ever wanted to help just for the sake of being kind. It had taken years to realise it, but nothing ever came without a price. Angels and humans were very alike in that way.

Metatron raised his hands innocently. "You've seen Heaven; it's a mess up there. Why do you think I left? I want to bring peace amongst our brothers and sisters again."

"Why now then? Why have you never attempted to fix Heaven before, if that is your true intention?"

Sighing in a very human way, Metatron put his hands in his pocket. "I've been lonely, never had hope. But then-" He smiled, but it couldn't be said that the action wasn't slightly off-putting. "You came along. You're not like the rest of them; you give me hope for what Heaven used to be."

Within five minutes of knowing him?

"You and I," He continued. "We could be the ones to save them; to take care of all the angels.'

"You are walking a dangerous line, Metatron. You are talking about playing God, and trust me, it will not end well."

"Who said anything about playing God?"

"I am warning you; do not go down that road."

"Fine, geez, you're a touchy one. C'mon, Cas, at least let me give you a lift."

Not given the chance to protest, Metatron placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder, and flapped them to the location of the tablet.

"See? That wasn't so bad was it?"

"A little warning would have been appreciated." Is that how Dean always felt when Castiel did that to him? Because it was rather annoying.

"So, ready to go tablet hunting, buddy?" Metatron asked.

Castiel had a feeling that he would be doing all the actual work. Seriously, Metatron, to use a very human word, sucked.

* * *

Castiel had made it very clear to Kevin that he was supposed to be looking for side-effects of the trials, and he was, but damn, translating was exhausting.

But, he knew Castiel was counting on him, and Sam's fate depended on his ability to translate in order to ensure his safety, so he kept working.

Sleepless nights, days without food, it was a lot of work, but he was constantly persevering.

It didn't matter how much he thought it, but Kevin's mind always ended up drifting back to his mother. He really missed her, but he also knew that until the trials were finished, she wouldn't be safe around him. Maybe she never actually would.

Nonetheless, now wasn't the time to dwell on his emotions. Now was the time to kick life right in the ass for the crappy hands it head relentlessly dealt him. Screw life, life's just a bitch.

And it was about to screw him over one last time.

The door to the bunker swung open, and if that wasn't bad enough, Abbadon stepped through... Again. This time, a man in an all-black suit, spare a red carnation in his left pocket, followed after.

"Did you miss me, sweetheart?" Abbadon practically purred, and despite his fear, Kevin couldn't help but wonder if that woman was capable of ever not smiling.

About to break into a run to his room, he turned around only to collapse on the ground when the man had suddenly transported himself directly in front of him. The man tilted his head curiously. "Being an ex-crossroads dealer has its benefits." He explained in that terrifyingly calm British accent.

"Who are you?" Kevin was frozen to the floor, whether from fear or one of them was actually pinning him down, he wasn't sure.

"Name's Crowley. Not that it matters. What does matter, however, is what my favourite hunters the Winchesters are up to."

Going off of the way Crowley spat 'Winchester', Kevin could assume that he wasn't someone who should be near Sam or Dean, especially now.

Bracing himself, Kevin opened his mouth and started spitting out an exorcism while backing away from Crowley. He felt a swell of pride for a split second as he continued the chant, until he backed into something that felt like a pair of legs. He stopped the exorcism, swallowing in terror.

"Good try, cutie." Abbadon praised sarcastically, setting her hands on Kevin's shoulders. "But no." With a sharp jerk, Kevin felt his shoulder not only dislocate, but the surrounding bones _snapped._

He knew what they wanted from him, he wasn't an idiot. "I'm n-not telling you where S-Sam is."

Abbadon yanked him up while a chuckling Crowley approached him, twirling a knife. "Actually... I think you are." He promptly sliced off one of Kevin's ears, "I really, really do."

* * *

AN: It's hard to believe I actually love all these characters. Except Metatron. I will never like him. Anywho, I hope you have enjoyed this chapter!

Announcement!: Now, this is probably too little too late, but if I can manage to make it to 100 reviews, the 100th reviewer will receive their very own one-shot! Sounds pretty nice, right? I'll do just about anything, but no slash, sorry. And if I don't get there, oh well, I still got more ideas after this story. Thanks again everybody!


	27. All of the Suffering

**AN: **Okay, so this chapter is just a bit shorter, but I figured y'all deserved at least two updates this week in apology for my absence last week. This chapter may or may not be kind of plotless, but I needed the brothers to have their Broment after all I've put them through. Enjoy everybody!

* * *

"Sam!" No. "Sammy." Shut up. "Sam, c'mon, you're scaring me." Go away, voice. "Sammy, you said we were close, don't leave me now, buddy."

_"Dean?" _Sam thought wearily. No, his brother was a demon, Dean didn't care about him. And besides, Sam was so comfortable right now. His arms weren't glowing bright enough to hurt his already burning head. Nothing mattered right now except this one moment of bliss.

"I need you, Sammy. Please." Stop talking. "What I've done... The things I've thought about doing... I just- I want it gone. I don't wanna be this anymore, and you're the only one that can save me. I believe that now. You got no idea how this feels, Sammy. These voices, I can't block 'em out. They want me to kill toy and I- I can't do that. I don't want to do that. I want this- what's inside me- I don't want it anymore. I want- I want to be human again, Sammy."

Gradually, Sam began to drift back. "Dean?"

He was welcomed with a grateful smile. "You with me, little brother?"

Rubbing his eyes with his good arm, Sam felt the cool metal of his watch press against and soothe his over-heated face.

Metal. Watch. Time. Oh crap, time! Sam was fully awake in an instant; he scrambled to his feet and hastily stuck the needle into his arm, and then Dean's neck.

"Ow!" Dean griped.

Apologetically, Sam slid the needle out more gently. "S-sorry."

Dean knew what he had told Sam about accepting the treatment, but looking at Sam now, he wasn't sure he could go through with it. "Sam-"

"Don't." Sam cut him off. "Don't-" Pant. "Start. I g-gotta finish this."

"We'll find some other way. This is killing you."

Besides the sounds of Sam's heavy breaths, the church was quiet for a moment. "So?"

Dean was speechless for a while after hearing that one heart-breaking word. "'So?' What the hell does that mean?"

"If my death means closing the gates forever... I'm okay with that."

"Well I'm not!" Dean protested.

Sam dropped his gaze from Dean, but then a smile slid onto his lips with a small chuckle.

"What's so funny?'

"Ever since I started the trials," Sam answered once he managed to stop snickering. "I've been remembering a lot of things."

Blanching, Dean asked, "The Cage?"

A nod. "But that's not all. I'm remembering all sorts of stuff. Like uh-" He paused for a moment, searching his mind for one of the better memories, and his lips curved upwards as he thought of one. "That time I broke my arm after jumping off the roof."

Dean remembered that too. "You were dressed like Batman too, weren't you? Pretty dumb decision there, Sammy."

"Hey, you jumped first!" Sam argued.

"Yeah, but I was Superman. He can fly, stupid. Batman can't."

These moments, those memories, that was how Dean was supposed to be, and Sam couldn't be happier. "I remembered something else too. I mean, I'm pretty sure it's a memory."

"What is it?"

"Mom, smiling at me." He cast his eyes down again, but the soft joy was still shining clearly on his face. "She really was beautiful, wasn't she?"

Could Sam really recall that far back? It didn't seem- it shouldn't be possible. Then again, neither should half the stuff Dean did on a regular basis, so maybe it could be true. "Yeah." He agreed. "Yeah, she was."

"She's with Dad now, you know."

Wait, what? "I thought she always-"

"So did I. But Dad was still in Hell up until I pulled him out."

"You-you got Dad out of Hell?"

Once more, Sam nodded. "They're finally together again, right where they both belong."

"'Bout damn time then." As Dean thought on more lost loved ones, he felt the consuming pit of guilt in his stomach begin to rise up again. "I- I killed Bobby, Sam."

The gladdened expression slowly fell from Sam's face. "Yeah... I know. Some demon possessed him to try and draw me in." He gestured to his injured shoulder. "That's how I got this."

Dean's gut clenched again. "How the hell are you doing this, Sammy?"

"Doing what?"

"Letting that go. There's no way you can just- forget all that!"

"I'm never gonna forget it, Dean." The unintentionally harsh words slipped past his lips before he could stop them. "But that doesn't mean I can't forgive you."

Completely disbelievingly, Dean laughed. "That damned big heart of yours." He shook his head. "How come Cas didn't fix you up?"

"He's not doing well. His grace, it's fading out."

"What? Well, what are you doing to help him?"

Sam's silence further provoked Dean's unease. "You're doing nothing?"

"I'm helping you. Fixing you and closing the gates is our priority right now. Believe me, I want to help Cas just as much as you do, but I can't do it alone."

Sighing at Sam's refusal to think five minutes ahead for once, he changed subject. "You really think this is gonna work?"

"It has to... It just- has to."

Nothing could really be said after that, leaving Sam and Dean in anticipating silence. At least, there was silence for Dean.

In Sam's mind, there was a war going on. Lucifer was constantly assaulting his head with all too vivid memories, causing Sam to turn his back on Dean in order to keep himself upright by leaning against a table. If he was lucky, these trials would kill him. He'd rather that than deal with the painful reminders of all he's suffered. It was simply too much, and Sam was tired. That had already been made obvious when he nearly collapsed and missed the second to last treatment.

Speaking of the treatments, the rest of the hour had flown past as the symphony of insanity had intensified in Sam's head. He could barely stand as he stumbled over to Dean.

"Last chance to change your mind."

Sam offered a weak and breathy chuckle. He shook his head. "Pass." He stuck the needle in.

Dragging a knife across his palm, Sam recited the altered exorcism. This was for Dean. "Lustra." This was for Dean. "Lustra!" This was for Dean. He stuck his bloodied hand to Dean's mouth.

A light so pure that it reminded Sam of an angel's essence shone throughout the church. When it finally faded, the room was sideways. Someone must have put the ceiling on the wall. Wait- no, he was lying on his back after collapsing on the floor Ah yes, that made more sense.

"Sammy?!" Dean's voice trembled with the very human worry he had always felt for his brother. Praying to anyone who would listen, Dean yanked on the demonic handcuffs, and to his relief for more than one reason, they snapped off.

Too concerned to relish in the finality and blessing of the action, Dean ran through the Devil's trap, not caring about what it really meant. He was cured; human.

At his brother's side in an instant, Dean grabbed Sam's face, slapping it lightly to get Sam to open his eyes. "Sammy! Look at me, little brother. It's all me right now, I promise."

For a moment, a whining groan was his only answer, but then Sam's eyes moved beneath his lids. He stirred lightly. "D-Dean? Di'it work?"

Relieved and unbelievingly happy, Dean smiled, and nodded. "Yeah, Sammy. You- you did it."

Mirroring Dean's reaction, Sam beamed as well. "G-gotta do the spell." He managed to get to his feet, albeit with Dean's assistance. He had to clear his blood coated throat before he spoke. "Kah- Nuh- Ahm- Dahr."

For just a split second, everything was quiet. Then, they felt it. Honestly, they'd been expecting something more, maybe an Earth shattering rumble, or perhaps a synchronized cry of all the demons realising that they were trapped, but no. If you weren't paying attention, you probably wouldn't have noticed it, but a wave of peace washed over.

It had worked. The gates were closed. It was over.

Dean's gaze drifted over to Sam, and they were both, for a lack of a better word, happy. Exhausted, but happy.

Until Sam's face suddenly scrunched up in pain; a harsh and laboured gasp slipping past his kips.

"Sammy? Sam!"

* * *

AN: Unfortunately, I think you guys know where this is going. But I definitely still have things that are going to surprise you. Brace yourselves everybody, this is almost it. And this time I mean it. Drop a review if y'all got time, and I will be updating ASAP! Good luck to all my fellow finale watchers tonight!


	28. Redeem Us from Our Solemn Hour

**AN: **I almost made this into two chapters, but I figured you deserved a long final chapter. You heard me, final chapter. I modified the chapter title because if I just went with the song lyrics it would have been "Cause if We Fail" and that's not a very positive sounding chapter. Speaking of not positive... Major characters death here, but bear with me on it, this is how it's meant to be. Thanks again to everyone who's stuck with me, you are all fantastic.

* * *

One by one, Sam felt his organs begin to fail him. His already sweat slicked brow scrunched up further with a gasping groan as pain engulfed him once more.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled again as he tried to pull Sam up. "Don't you dare give up on me!" Panicking, Dean slapped Sam across the face. _Hard. _"Dammit, Sam, don't do this to me!"

"D-Dean," Sam choked out. "I-I'm dying, okay?"

"Yeah, I can see that!"

Solemnly, Sam shook his head. "No. N-not just the trials." The words were painful to string together, and not just physically. "L-Lucifer's in my head. W-won't leave. Please Dean... I-I want this."

The façade of anger was fading quickly. "No, no, no, no, you don't get to say that. Not now, not ever."

"It's okay, Dean."

"No, it's not!" Dean's voice quivered in desperation; pleading and terrified desperation.

"L-listen t'me, Dean." Sam couldn't stop his over exhausted body's shakes and quivers. "You gotta let me go. You gotta promise not to bring me back, okay?"

Shaking his head in denial, Dean responded. "You can't make me do that, Sammy. That's not how this works. You die, and I will go to the ends of the Earth to bring you back. That's how it's always been, and that's how it's always gonna be."

Wincing as a bout of pain washed over him again, Sam continued, completely incapable of carrying out an argument. "Pl-please, Dean... Promise me."

Those damn eyes. Whether Sam was using them to get five more minutes before he had to go to bed, or for asking his big brother to let him die, Dean just couldn't say no. "A-alright, Sammy. I promise."

Able to die knowing that Dean wouldn't try to bring him back and get himself hurt in the process, Sam allowed himself to stop fighting. He looked up at his brother one last time, smiled, and let his eyes drift shut.

Even though he had promised Sam he wouldn't bring him back, Dean never said anything about accepting his death silently. Dean brought his baby brother's body to his chest; Sam's head lolled against Dean's shoulder, no one left inside to keep it upright.

This scenario was painfully familiar to Dean. His mind went back to all those earthly years ago at Cold Oak. How he held clutched Sammy's lifeless body, the same way he was holding him now.

Only this time, Sam hadn't died for war, but for peace. Sam Winchester, the Boy King, the boy with the demon blood, Lucifer's true vessel, had saved the damn world. And maybe it'll even last this time. And Sam had said he was content with that.

The same couldn't be said for Dean though. He just couldn't understand that Sam had finally saved him, cured him, and before Dean could so much as thank him he- there wasn't even a point in saying it. Hell, there wasn't a point to _anything _anymore. Dean's life revolved around keeping Sammy safe, and he'd failed. So really, what was left for him?

Dean didn't even react when he heard the sound of the church doors swinging open, followed by approaching footsteps.

"Looks like your little prophet wasn't as strong as he thought he was." Crowley announced smugly. "So undignified the way he begged for death."

Still, Dean's eyes did not waver from Sam's corpse. Instead of responding, he simply flicked a strand of hair out of his brother's face.

"Aw," Abbadon cooed in mock sympathy. "Doesn't look like baby brother's waking up this time, does it?" An angel blade dropped from her sleeve, and she clutched it tightly. "Don't worry, you'll be joining him soon anyway."

Dean remained motionless.

Partially confused and angered by Dean's lack of a reaction, Abbadon's desire for battle took over her, and she psychically threw Dean into a wall. He grunted, and slid down wordlessly. "Aren't you going to put up a fight?" She challenged.

All Dean did was get back on his feet, and he made his way back over to Sam.

"Don't tell me the great Dean Winchester is refusing to defend himself?" Crowley mused aloud.

The silent shell-shocked approach wasn't really Abbadon's style, so she growled, and hurled Dean into another wall. "Get up and fight, Winchester!"

Again, Dean got to his feet, only to fall on his knees, but he kept trying to crawl back to Sam.

Now furious, Abbadon shrieked and threw him again. "I said fight!"

Dean looked up at her. "Why?"

That obviously was not what she wanted to hear, so she continued to throw him. Again. And again. And again. And again.

Yet after each blow, Dean would use all his energy to try and move back over to Sam, but never once did he fight back.

Snaps and thuds echoed throughout the church as Dean flew from wall to wall, over and over.

Panting in fury, Abbadon finally stopped. Dean Winchester was an anomaly. Bruised, bloody, and broken, and he would not so much as lift a finger to defend himself; all he did was continuously crawl back over to his brother's corpse. If Abbadon had an ounce of sentiment in her body, she might have found it touching. However, that was not the case. She did not find it sweet; she simply saw it as an opportunity. If Dean wasn't willing to fight for his life, she would gladly end it.

As she poised to swing the blade down on him, a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist. Much to her dismay, it wasn't Dean finally trying to fight back; it was just Crowley.

"You wouldn't mind leaving that honour to me, would you dear? Sorry to ask, but Squirrel and I have quite a history."

"And he and I don't?" Abbadon countered.

"You've had your fun with him. Don't be selfish now."

Her fists clenched tightly around the hilt of the angel blade. "You want this?" She smiled. "Fine. Take it." Swiftly, she stuck the blade straight into his heart. "See? I can share." She gave it a twist, and grinned as Crowley's head went back and sparked orange. Abbadon steadied the blade for a while longer, and then slowly pulled it out with a squish.

To her irritation, Dean still hadn't reacted. But he had managed to crawl all the way back to Sam, and he held the body close to him.

Huffing in disappointment, Abbadon gave the blade a little toss. "And now it's your turn."

Dean didn't take his eyes off Sam, not even when the blade pierced him in the back.

Abbadon did feel let down at how simple all this had been. She'd already planned to kill Crowley and Dean, but can you blame a girl for hoping for a little more? She yanked the blade out, causing blood to pour from the wound on Dean's back. Gradually, his body began to tip forward, until it finally fell, but, even in his now lifeless arms, he still held on to Sam.

Unopposed now, Abbadon stood up. All hail the Queen.

* * *

It was official; Metatron was a douche. Not only had made Castiel do all the grunt work, but he'd tried to take the tablet away before Castiel could so much as touch it. That had finally pushed his unease over the edge, so Castiel snatched up the tablet before Metatron could.

The instant Castiel touched the tablet, he felt a power he hadn't experienced since he'd consumed the souls of Purgatory. His fading grace was made new, he felt- he felt like an angel again.

Turning to Metatron, Castiel hardened his now glowing blue eyes. "This is why you wanted the tablet, isn't it, Metatron? You want all this power for yourself."

Stuttering nervously, Metatron raised his hands. "L-let's not do anything too hasty now, partner." Metatron didn't know it, but 'partner' was a bad word to say around Castiel. He'd trusted too many wrong people too many times, and was not enjoying the realisation that he'd done it once more. "We-we're partners, remember?"

"No one should be allowed to have this much power. This tablet is dangerous."

"Th-then let's take care of it together, part-" He was interrupted with a shocked and pained gasp as Castiel placed a hand on his head, and burned him to a crisp.

"Stop calling me 'partner.'" Metatron's body fell to the floor, and Castiel picked the tablet up, unfazed by the eyeless corpse at his feet. He scanned the angel tablet, turning it around in his hands. Kevin would have to take a look at it.

Content, at last, Castiel spread his wings, and flew to the bunker. He tucked them away on arrival. "Kevin, I've found-"

No. No, this couldn't be. Castiel's gaze instantly went to Kevin's' mutilated body. The missing fingers weren't new, but the dislocated shoulders, slashed up chest, broken ribs, toes, legs, and lack of an ear? Yeah, that was new.

Frantically, Castiel hurried over to Kevin's body, praying for any sign of life, yet he found none.

Who would have done this? And why? Castiel could think of only two who would torture someone so young so brutally and cruelly; Crowley or Abbadon. And he was certain as to what information they were after, and he knew they wouldn't have left without it. Sam and Dean were in trouble.

Prepared to fly headfirst into a fight, Castiel's feeling of heroism vanished within a second of beaming himself to the church, because there, dead on the floor, were his two best friends.

Even in death, they were at one another's sides, reaching for one another, as though offering help or comfort as they crossed to the other side.

Obviously, Sam had completed the trial successfully, but the consequences had been exactly what Castiel feared. And Dean had clearly been in a fight, but it didn't appear that he'd defended himself at all.

Both the Winchesters did have something right now though; they were at peace. Sam had died for the sake of closing the gates of Hell, and Dean would have joined him in Heaven by now.

So why wasn't Castiel happy for them? He didn't feel good about this at all. He felt nothing but regret. Castiel began playing the dangerous 'what if' game. 'What if he hadn't left Kevin on his own?' 'What if they had waited until they'd learned about the trials after effects before finishing them?' 'What if he had gotten here sooner?' Again, very dangerous game.

What good was this power if he hadn't been able to use it to protect his friends? But he wouldn't bring them back. He knew that they both deserved to rest after all they'd done, after all they'd been through.

Maybe Castiel had been around humans for too long. Maybe that was why he cared so much, why he was so much like them now. Castiel didn't feel like an angel anymore, he didn't believe that he deserved to. Nor did he believe he deserved all the power the tablet granted him. He knew it would have to be destroyed.

* * *

Singing. Dean couldn't see, but he could hear, and he could hear singing. He knew the song too; _Hey Jude. _He knew the voice as well. Soft, soothing.

"Take a sad song and make it better, remember to let her into your heart..."

Eyes still closed, Dean managed to croak out, "Mom?" He dared to look, he was afraid to do so, in case his mind was simply playing tricks on him. Call it luck, a miracle, whatever, because it wasn't a trick; Mary was really there.

Her gentle hand stroked his cheek, and she beamed warmly. "Welcome home, baby."

He was almost sure, but... "Where am I?"

Mary chuckled lightly. "You know, Dean."

"H-Heaven?" He was grateful as hell, ironically, but he didn't quite believe that he deserved it.

"Of course. You've earned it."

About to celebrate, a haunting thought suddenly occurred to him. "Where's Sam?"

Opening her mouth to answer, Mary was cut off by the sound of raised voices.

"I thought I gave you an order, Sammy."

That was John. Oh crap, Sam and John were in a room together? Thinking he was going to have to break up a fight, Dean ran into what used to be their kitchen. That probably made it all the more shocking when he ran in, and saw Sam and John smiling at each other.

"Told you not to hurry in getting up here." John laughed, actually laughed. "You never listen." Then they were hugging. It was a rare, screw rare, Dean thought this kind of moment was freaking _extinct! _He let it last as long as he could, but he was too damn happy to see his father to let it last forever.

"Hey, Dad."

Both Sam and John's heads went to Dean at the sound of his voice. Whilst John was pleased to see his son, Sam looked shocked, and just slightly sad. So engrossed with Sam's expression, Dean was caught off guard when John's burly arms wrapped tightly around him in an embrace. "I can't be out of Hell for five minutes before you boys get yourselves into trouble, can I?"

Now Dean laughed. "No, sir.'

The hug lasted a moment longer, and then John released him. He looked at Dean, and then at Sam. "I'm proud of you, boys. I wasn't perfect, pretty damn far from it, but you two..." He smiled, another rare gesture. "You boys saved the damn world. Wish I could take some credit for it, but..." A pause. "You're heroes, boys. That's more than I ever could have wanted. I always thought I expected too much of you, but turns out you could do so much more than I thought. And you did it all on your own." His eyes went over to Sam again, and John saw the confusion beneath the gratitude in Sam's expression. Clearly, he needed to talk to his brother. "I'll give you two a minute." He rejoined Mary in the living room.

Dean was waiting for Sam to say something, and Sam was waiting for Dean to say something, therefore it caused an uncomfortable silence between them.

"Why, Dean?" Ah, there it was.

"Why what?"

"C'mon, you know. After all you went through, you were finally human again, and then you just up and die? I thought-"

"You thought what, Sam? That I'd just let you die in my arms? Maybe I'd give you a hunter's funereal, hop in the Impala and drive away? Maybe I'd start hunting again. Maybe I'd even find myself a new brother so I don't have to look at the empty passenger seat reminding me of what I let happen to you. Or maybe-"

"Okay." Sam cut him off, understanding where Dean was going. "I get it."

"Together, or not at all, man. That's how it's always been."

The last time Dean had said 'together' was right before they had both jumped into the Cage. For a while, Sam thought that would have been the last memory he'd ever have of his brother, yet here they were. Sam allowed himself to smile. "I've missed you, Dean." Sam hugged his brother tight. Tighter than that time a clown walked a little too close to him at a county fair, tighter than that time Dean dragged him out of his and Jess' burning apartment, and tighter than when Dean had returned from Hell after he had sold his soul for Sam.

"Sammy, I'm so sorry."

It was inevitable, really, another apology, but Sam wouldn't let Dean dwell on his past mistakes forever. "Well," He kidded it off. "You got the rest of eternity to make it up to me."

"Where do I even start?"

Complicated question, simple answer. Sam opened the door to the fridge, taking out two cold ones, and offering one to his brother. "How about a beer?"

* * *

The tablet was officially destroyed. Castiel had smashed it to bits, broke those bits into crumbs, and then obliterated the crumbs into dust that he then scattered throughout the universe. No one would be able to harness that power for evil.

Only now, that meant that Castiel couldn't use it either, and his dwindling grace threatened to end his angelic life all over again.

Oddly enough though, that didn't bother him. Even with his life in danger, Castiel thought back to the Winchesters. A willingness to do whatever God commanded in order to close the gates, a passion so strong for what's right that they'd both be willing to die for it. They were more like angels than he could ever hope to be.

Being too human was always Castiel's problem. He had doubts , which was what made him rebel, he had pride, which was what made him seek out power that only his Father should have, and he had love, which was what made him do this.

Tilting his head back, he placed the point of an angel blade at his throat. He imagined this wouldn't be pleasant. Or easy. Or sane. But he didn't care.

Gritting his teeth as he dragged the tip across his throat, blood and grace began flowing past the cut. To say it hurt was a gross understatement.

Every ounce of angelicalness left inside him was screaming for him to stop this, that it was pure madness and blasphemy, but he pressed on.

Humans had been better than angels in Castiel's eyes for a long time. Their doubts had brought them answers, their pride had brought them success, and love, love had always brought them home, which was exactly where Castiel was headed.

Extinguishing grace now completely expelled from him, Castiel was no longer an angel; he was, indeed, a human. But he wasn't done with himself yet, there was still one more thing he needed to do.

He stuck the blade through his heart. There was no unearthly whine, or bright light to announce his death; it was quiet, peaceful.

When he opened his eyes, it was anything but. Panicked voices swirled all around him as he stared at the ceiling of- where was he exactly?

A known face suddenly came into view, looking rather worried. "Cas? Hey, c'mon, buddy, look at me."

Castiel smiled. "Hello, Dean."

Hands took hold of his arms, and brought him to his feet. "What are you doing here, Cas?" Sam asked.

"Well, this is typically where one goes after death."

"Yeah," Dean interjected. "Humans, not angels. And what do you mean 'death?' Are you dead, Cas?"

"We are all dead, Dean." Castiel was having a difficult time comprehending why Dean was so confused about all of this.

"But- angels don't go to Heaven when they die." Dean protested. "They just- die!"

"I am no longer an angel."

Sam and Dean's mouths dropped open. "What the hell did you do, Cas?" Dean asked in utter astonishment.

"I ripped out my grace and stabbed myself."

Two frantic questions sparked out at once, Sam's being "You ripped your grace out?" and Dean's was, "You stabbed yourself?"

"Yes." He answered both of them with that one word. "I believe that is what I just said."

"But- why?" Sam was in awe.

"I was not a very good angel, Sam. I thought perhaps I would enjoy life more as a human."

"Well it didn't last very long." Dean pointed out.

"You two are my friends." Castiel explained. "My only friends. There is so much you have taught me, and a life without both of you is not one worth living, which is why I have joined you in death."

The brothers didn't really know what to say to that, at least for a while. "Damn." Dean chuckled. "That was deep, Cas."

Castiel smiled again. "Welcome back, Dean." One of the human things he still hadn't quite mastered was hugging, but it didn't stop him from trying. It was awkward, unexpected, a little strange, and overall so very- Cas.

"Team Free Will." Castiel announced happily. "Reunited at last."

And what a beautiful thing it was.

* * *

And on that note, I thank every single one of you who has viewed, followed, favourited, and reviewed. I would not have gone this far without each and every one of you, you have been a fantastic audience, and I look forward to writing for you all again very soon. Until then, Carry on my wayward sons!


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